Repercussions
by Gomes
Summary: [SBR] An old flame returns in Bailey's life, forcing Sam to confront her feelings for him. But, these feelings could have dire consequences.
1. Cliffhanger

TITLE : Repercussions  
  
AUTHOR : Karen Gomes (pyrie@hotmail.com)  
  
CATEGORY : Even though it might look otherwise, it's SBR all the way.  
  
RATING : R  
  
SPOILERS : Probably  
  
DISCLAIMER : All of the known characters/premises/plots belong to their respective owners. So there.  
  
SUMMARY : An old flame returns in Bailey's life, forcing Sam to confront her feelings for him. But, these feelings could have dire consequences.  
  
NOTES : This can be considered a semi fluff/smut fic. I'm guessing a smuff fic, however being a very conservative and bashful person, the smut might be weak. A thousand apologies in advance. Oh, and the beginning could be considered crap - hopefully it'll only be 1/8th crap by the end.  
  
Cheers! Gomes.  
  
--------------------- Repercussion (pt. 1) ---------------------  
  
Mayfield Woods, Atlanta  
  
"Careful, Sam." Bailey said, taking hold of her hand. He guided her down a steep, wooded path. "Okay, watch the last step." He said, and hopped down. He then grabbed hold of both of her hands and helped her down.  
  
She stood face to face with him, caught in a moment of semi-fantasy and semi-reality. Their eyes locked, and she was sure he was going to kiss her. Swallowing hard, she couldn't decide whether to kiss him or run away. «I can't start falling for him.» She thought somberly to herself. «If Jack finds out . . . » She hesitated, but Bailey was slowly leaning in.  
  
"Bailey!" A voice came from the far reaches of the wooded area, and Bailey jerked his head up, breaking the enchanting spell that once again fell upon them. Sam too, looked around, unsure if she was relieved or bitter. "Bailey!" Again, the melodious voice of a female fluttered through the air.  
  
Bailey shook his head, unable to place the voice. It seemed familiar, but it also seemed from centuries past. He looked at her; there she stood, her brown hair tied loosely in a ponytail, dirt on her hands and a bit on her forehead. She was wearing a white t-shirt that was covered in grass stains, and a pair of ripped jeans. "Liz?" Bailey asked, squinting.  
  
"Hey handsome!" She ran up to him, as Bailey dropped one of Sam's hands and turned towards her. She reached out and kissed him aggressively on the lips, causing Bailey to take a step back. "I missed those." She said, breathlessly.  
  
Bailey let out a deep breath, and quietly dabbed his lips with a handkerchief. "So, what brings you to these part of the woods?" Bailey asked, trying to regain his composure. Thoughts of Liz and Sam pulsated through his head, disorienting his heart.  
  
"Well, I was called down for the Jepson's case. I know these woods like the back of my hand, and since the murder took place in here . . . " She trailed off, taking in the sights and sounds of the humid wooded area. "Actually, I was the one who found Jepson."  
  
"Are we close to the body?" Sam decided to make herself known. She glanced at Bailey, concluding that he was too smitten with this woman to even acknowledge her existence.  
  
Liz looked Sam from head to toe, and arched her eyebrow. "Who's that?" She asked Bailey, ignoring Sam's question.  
  
Bailey looked at Sam. "This is Dr. Samantha Waters. She's our Profiler, the best." He gave her hand a squeeze. "So, are we close to the body?"  
  
"Yeah," Liz started, grabbing Bailey's hand and prying him away from Sam, "we haven't finished searching yet . . . maybe you could help?" Liz made a little pouty face that made Bailey laugh.  
  
Sam watched as Liz escorted Bailey away from her. «I should be happy . . . they seem to hit it off well.» She tried to reason with herself. She followed slowly, always keeping an eye on Bailey. Finally, Sam stood behind Bailey, looking down at the body that was half dug out from the ground. Putting on a glove, she knelt down and kneaded the soft dirt between her fingers.  
  
"Marta Jepson." Bailey read the file. "Didn't she . . . " He looked down at Sam.  
  
Sam stood up and dusted off the dirt from her pants. "She studied with me at Quantico. We were both in your class, Bail."  
  
Liz took a step closer. "Oh, Bailey taught you?" Liz asked Sam.  
  
"Why the sudden interest in me?" Sam asked, rather bitterly. «There's something wrong with this  
  
woman . . . » Sam shrugged and bent down again, looking at the body. She focused on Marta, trying to get a reading, but kept getting disturbed by Liz's obvious flirtations with Bailey.  
  
"Was there any other evidence found?" She asked, trying to sound professional.  
  
Liz stepped close to her. She pointed straight ahead. "Keep following the path, we found some string and a lead pipe we believe to be the murder weapon." Liz stated.  
  
"Do you want me to come with you, Sam?" Bailey offered.  
  
Sam put her hand up. "Thanks Bail, but I can handle it. I'll see if I can get something over there." Sam locked eyes with Bailey, and reluctantly turned away. She did want him to go with her but only because she wanted him away from Liz. Sam continued walking through the shady woods, suffering only from the humidity. Rays of sunlight scarcely poked out through the green foliage as Sam walked down the ever-inclining path. A sound rattled in the bushes and Sam instinctively looked towards it, but continued walking. Suddenly, she tripped over an almost invisible piece of wire that was tied from one tree to the next, causing her to fall. Sam rolled on the ground, and suddenly lost contact with the ground. "Shit." She muttered, as she flailed her arms, trying desperately to grab hold of anything. Her hand came into contact with a long metallic object that stuck out of the rocky cliff. Her legs dangled over oblivion and she dared to look down. «Okay.stay calm.» She reminded herself, despite the pain in her tiring arms. She tried in vain to pull herself back up, but she didn't posses enough body strength to do it.  
  
"Hey." A voice echoed from above. "Just hanging around?" He remarked lamely.  
  
Sam swore under her breath, and looked up to meet a young park ranger. She read his name tag. "Jeff Burke. Can I have a hand, here?" She asked, worry starting to creep into her voice. Her arms were getting awfully tired and not to mention clammy. Any second now, she was sure she would lose grip and plummet to her death. "Please? I think I'm slipping!" Sam felt tears escape the corner of her eyes.  
  
The park ranger sighed, knelt down and offered Sam his hand. When she was reluctant to let go of the metal pipe, he let out a small chuckle. "Look, you're going to have to let it go sometime. You can either let go when your hands are really tired and fall, or you can give me your hand and I'll pull you up."  
  
Sam bit her lip. She didn't even have to consider this ultimatum. Shakily, she released the metal pipe with her right hand and thrust it upwards. The park ranger grabbed it, and with a little grunt, pulled her up. She collapsed in his arms. "Thank you so much." Sam said, tears still in her eyes. She glanced down, looking into the disappearing petioles that created a cascading effect of greens. "I was just walking and tripped over a wire, and I guess I just fell. Thank goodness you came and saved - " Sam interrupted herself when she realized that she was talking to herself. The young ranger had disappeared as fast as he arrived. Sam rubbed her massaged her aching hands, and knelt down on the muddy path to calm her racing heart. «Would Liz deliberately lead me off a cliff?» Sam asked herself. She looked at the wire, neatly tied from one thin tree trunk to another. She looked around the tree trunk, and found a single red rose tied to it. Sam gingerly picked the rose, observing that it had been tied with a different type of string, and it overlapped the previous wire. Sam passed a hand through her now damp hair. «Jack seems to be somehow involved, but how?» She picked her cell phone from her pocket and dialed the VCTF number. "George? I need a  
  
favour . . . "  
  
Meanwhile, Bailey had been waiting near Sam's car. He was beginning to get a little worried. Moments after she had left, he decided to follow her. Reaching the end of the path, he stopped a few meters away from the cliff, deciding that she had already left. He didn't even think of looking down. He was just about to call her cell, when he saw her immerge from the bushes. "Where were you?" He asked, slightly irritated that she just disappeared like that.  
  
Sam bit her lip, halting a sarcastic retort from escaping her lips. "Let's just say that the murder weapons your girlfriend, sent me to find," Sam said bitterly, "were probably for the wrong murder." She stopped in front of Bailey, who was leaning on the driver's side door.  
  
Bailey's brow furrowed. «Girlfriend?» "Look, you can't just up and go. I went down the path, and I couldn't find you." Bailey said, standing his ground.  
  
Sam sighed, and walked over to the passenger side. Getting in, she slid over to the driver's side. She rolled down the window, and Bailey turned, and leaned in. "You should have looked lower." She stated, and started the car.  
  
"I don't understand."  
  
Sam rethought her previous assumptions. «Maybe Liz didn't know that it had been placed there. Maybe it was Jack . . . » She sighed and stared straight ahead. A few moments later, the car door slammed and Bailey was sitting in the passenger seat.  
  
"What are you not telling me, Sam?" Bailey asked, a genuine concerned look expressed on his face.  
  
"It's probably nothing . . . " Sam's voice cracked. She hit the steering wheel, trying to vent some of her frustrations : anger at Bailey, anger at Liz, anger for being so vulnerable, for being rescued by Jack - of all people!  
  
Bailey grabbed hold of her hand. "Sam, calm down . . ." He said. Something had obviously upset her, and it was breaking his heart to see her in this state.  
  
Sam took a deep breath. "That path . . . the wire was tied around the trees and I tripped."  
  
"Did you scrape your knee or something?" Bailey asked, trying to figure out what went wrong.  
  
"Damn it, Bailey! I'm not some porcelain doll that breaks everytime she falls. I might not be Miss Rugged 2000 like Liz over there - "  
  
"What does she have to do with anything?" Bailey asked. When Sam didn't respond, Bailey pressed on. "It's about the second time you've mentioned her in one conversation."  
  
"Look, it's nothing."  
  
"Obviously it's something, since it has you so worked up." Bailey said, finally letting go of her arm. "But if you don't want to talk about it -"  
  
"You know that cliff?" Sam interrupted Bailey. Bailey nodded. "Guess why you couldn't find me?"  
  
"You didn't fall off?!" Bailey asked, incredulously.  
  
Sam shrugged as tears rolled down her cheeks. "Almost." She batted Bailey's hand away when he came to console her. "And I know that I'm probably weak . . . but I was scared. Scared that I'd never see Chloe, my friends . . . «You.» Scared that I would lose my life." Sam said, leaning her head on the steering wheel.  
  
"How did you . . . ?"  
  
"Jeff Burke, the park ranger, rescued me." Sam said, hoping Bailey would catch on.  
  
"Mayfield doesn't have any rangers." Bailey stated.  
  
Sam took out the rose, now rather mangled, from her pocket. "Surprise." She said, monotonously.  
  
"Jack." Bailey spat out. "That bastard . . . "  
  
Sam closed her eyes. "He saved me, Bail."  
  
Bailey stared at Sam. "Well, it's obvious what happened." Sam raised her eyebrow, and wiped her eyes; tears of fear and shame still lingering. "Jack set the whole thing up, and then saved you, so he would come out looking like a hero."  
  
Sam opened her mouth, but thought better of the situation. "Maybe . . . " She said, distantly. She shook her head and put both hands on the steering wheel. "All I want to do is go home, have a nice hot bath, and crawl into bed."  
  
Bailey stared straight ahead, imagining Sam naked in her bathtub. He could vividly picture her hot, wet body, and could see himself caressing each curve - making her moan his name. Bailey swallowed hard, and hoped that Sam didn't see him in the aroused state. He got out briskly of the car and closed the door. Walking over to the driver's side, he leaned in again. "I'll be right behind you." He said, gently caressing her face.  
  
Sam leaned into his touch, and then shifted gears. "Good night, Bailey." She said, coldly. With that, she drove off leaving a confused Bailey in its wake.  
  
Bailey sighed, "Goodnight Sam." He said, more to himself. He got into his car. "Sorry for the wait." He muttered, and looked over to the passenger side.  
  
Liz brushed her hand through his hair. "Don't worry handsome. Is Samantha alright?" She asked.  
  
Bailey started the car, and sped up, in order to catch up with Sam. "Hopefully, she will be." His thoughts drifted back to Sam, once again. «What am I doing with her?» He asked himself, questioning his motives with Liz. «Are you trying to make Sam jealous? Or are you just lonely.» He glanced over at Liz, who seemed to be lost in thought, staring out the window. «Are you so sure that Sam will never love you? That you're willing to give up what could be, for something that was?» Bailey gritted his teeth, irritated with the riddled messages that traveled through his head. «I sound like a freaking fortune cookie.» He thought dryly to himself. He finally caught sight of Sam's car as it headed towards an intersection. Bailey saw the red lights, and figured he could pull up next to her and make sure everything was okay. But when Sam didn't stop at the intersection, he once again started to worry. He too cut the red light, which caught Liz's attention. "Babe, that was a red." She stated, looking back at the traffic light. Luckily, no cars were in sight. He tailed Sam until the next intersection and sped up once more, when she failed to stop. "Something's wrong." He remarked nervously, as fear settled into his brain and heart.  
  
-TBC- 


	2. Nerve Gas

TITLE : Repercussions  
  
AUTHOR : Karen Gomes (pyrie@hotmail.com)  
  
CATEGORY : Even though it might look otherwise, it's SBR all the way.  
  
RATING : R  
  
SPOILERS : Probably  
  
DISCLAIMER : All of the known characters/premises/plots belong to their respective owners. So there.  
  
SUMMARY : An old flame returns in Bailey's life, forcing Sam to confront her feelings for him. But, these feelings could have dire consequences.  
  
NOTES : Part Two. Enjoy. :) Criticism is more than welcome.don't worry, I'll keep the sacrificial burnings to a minimum.  
  
Cheers! Gomes.  
  
--------------- Repercussions (pt.2 ) ---------------  
  
Atlanta  
  
Bailey accelerated, until he was close enough to Sam's car to see her outline through the back windshield. He thought about calling her, but it would distract her too much. «What if she's in trouble?» Bailey was beside himself, he didn't know what to do. He didn't know how to protect her . . .  
  
Sam knew something was wrong the minute she passed the first intersection. She knew it was a red light - she knew she had to stop. Only thing was, her car didn't want to comply with her demand. "Shit!" Sam repeated; it was soon becoming her favourite word. Luckily the roads were somewhat clear. Glancing in the rear-view mirror, she noticed Bailey's car close behind. «He must be wondering what the hell I'm doing.» She thought to herself. She stepped on the breaks again, and to no avail, the car did not stop. Suddenly, the car jerked forward, then started slowing down and Sam panicked for a few moments. «What's wrong now?!» She decided to risk it, and pulled to the shoulder. The car pulled to a very slow stop, slowly inching and then finally dying down. Sam glanced at her mirror and noticed Bailey had also stopped behind her. She opened the door, but remained in the car, hands clutching the steering wheel. She choked on a sob.  
  
"Sam!" Bailey rushed to her side, and helped her out. He cupped her cheek in his hand and looked into her eyes. "What happened? Are you okay?" Sam nodded, unable to speak. She just looked at Bail, her eyes blank. Bailey kissed her gently on her forehead, he hated to see her in a state of shock like this. It was almost as if she was being terrorized, and Bailey had a feeling who it might be.  
  
Sam narrowed her eyes and looked back at her car. "Someone cut my breaks." She said, plainly. "But I don't understand why I stopped." She walked around the car, looking for anything out of the ordinary. Stopping at the gas tank, she noticed that it wasn't fully shut. "Bail?"  
  
Bailey lifted his head and met her gaze. "Yes?"  
  
"Could you check my gas meter?" Sam asked, carefully unscrewing the lid.  
  
"Empty, or just about." Bailey walked up behind her. He couldn't help but imagine the monstrosities that could have happened, had she forgotten to fill up her tank. "Good thing you didn't fill up, huh?" He asked, giving her shoulder a squeeze. He was so relieved that she was safe.  
  
Liz watched the exchange from the car. Chewing on her lower lip, she debated whether or not to get out of the car. She understood that Sam and Bailey were best friends, but it worried her that they were so close. During the past few hours, Bailey had never mentioned that they were anything more than friends. She got the feeling that he was her protector, but other than that, it never went past friendship. «Which is good for me.» She grinned inwardly. Even when they had been dating when they were both at Quantico - Bailey had never mentioned any feelings towards her. «So why is he so damn attached now?» She asked herself. She had decided to play ignorant, pretending not to remember anything about Sam, but on the contrary, Bailey had often spoken about her. «Maybe he did love her.or at least care deeply, back then. Maybe he just hid it very well.» She shrugged to herself and got out of the car.  
  
"I had a full tank when we got here, Bail." Sam said, placing the lid on the roof of the car. She placed her index and her thumb inside the tube and felt around. She glanced at Bailey and extracted an object.  
  
"Jack." Bailey breathed and snatched the rose out of Sam's hand. "What is his game?" He asked, throwing the rose on the floor. "These fucking cryptic messages, almost killing you only to save you." Bailey pounded his fist on the hood of the car.  
  
It was Sam's turn to calm Bailey down. "Bailey . . . " She grabbed hold of his hand, still balled up into a fist. Gently, she pried it open and laced her fingers with his. "Let's just get back to the center, and we'll figure this out." Sam said, rather calmly.  
  
Bailey took a deep breath. "I just don't want anything to happen to you, that's all." Bailey gathered Sam in his arms, crushing her in a passionate embrace; one arm around her neck, the other arm around her waist. Sam responded by gripping the back of his shirt.  
  
Liz sat on the hood of the car, watching the two caught in their own moment. She cleared her throat, hoping it would grab Bailey's attention. When that failed, she tried a more direct approach. "Handsome?" She walked up to Bailey and Sam.  
  
Sam slowly released herself from Bailey's grasp, though she felt his arms linger slightly longer than needed. "Oh Liz. I didn't know you were here." Sam said, trying to be polite. She felt ashamed that she had come close to two accidents with Liz around. She felt as if this woman was judging her and she knew she couldn't compare to her. «She's won . . . » Sam thought, as Liz looped her arm through Bailey's.  
  
Bailey couldn't take his eyes off Sam. He needed to feel her in his arms again, but she had pulled away. It was obvious to him that she didn't want to exceed a professional relationship. It was obvious and so very painful. He looked over at Liz. «Maybe a relationship aside from Sam will do me some good.» He thought to himself.  
  
Sam closed her cell phone. "I called a tow-truck - they'll pick up the car tonight." She looked down at her feet, unsure what to do next.  
  
"I'll drive you home." Bailey offered in a heartbeat. All three walked to the car, and Sam opened the passenger side, only to have Liz cut in front and sit in the seat beside Bailey. Sam rolled her eyes - an action that Bailey caught and he looked at her quizzically. She dropped her gaze and got into the backseat, scooting over behind Bailey. During the drive home, everyone was quiet - lost in their own thoughts. Bailey would often look in his rear-view mirror, making sure that Sam was okay. One time, their eyes made contact, and Bailey found it hard not to get lost in those crystal blue eyes.  
  
"Bailey? Hon?!" Liz's voice interrupted his daydream. "You just passed a stop-sign back there."  
  
"Oh." Bailey replied, distracted. He glanced once more at Sam and realized that she had been looking at him all the while.  
  
Bailey finally pulled up in front of Sam's house. "Are you sure you want to be alone, Sam?" Bailey asked, turning in his seat. Sam only nodded and stared at the house. Bailey sat there for awhile, just staring at Sam's beautiful face. He enjoyed studying her profile and often realized that her face was permanently engraved in his mind. "You can stay with me, Sam." Bailey offered. He flinched slightly as Liz dug her nails into his thigh and gave him a warning look.  
  
"It's okay, thanks Bail." Sam said softly, and numbly got out of the car. She started walking towards her house but then froze at the doorway. She couldn't go in - she couldn't bring herself to reach for the door. She bit her quivering lower lip and just stared at the door.  
  
Bailey watched as Sam ceased all movement. He was out of the car and by her side in three seconds flat. He gathered her into his arms once more, pressing his body against hers. However, she didn't respond; her arms just hung loosely at her sides. "Sam? Sweetheart?" Bailey looked into her eyes and a vacant look stared back at her. "Christ. She's going into some sort of emotional shock." He said to himself. He guided her back to his car and lay her in the backseat. "I'm taking her home." He said, off-hand to Liz.  
  
Liz crossed her arms over her chest and stared out the window. "You can drop me off at May's Bed and Breakfast." She shrugged.  
  
Bailey felt bad for Liz. He still felt emotions stir in his heart everytime she was near, but it was nothing compared to what his heart was singing, everytime Sam was in close proximity. Even the mere thought of Sam was able to arouse love. Bailey stopped in front of May's and looked at Liz expectantly. "Can I see you again?" He asked her, shyly.  
  
Liz smiled seductively. "I've taken up residence in Atlanta - I'm just waiting until the renovations in my house are complete." She licked her lips and then leaned forward, roughly caressing Bailey's. She forced her tongue into his mouth, tasting him. Pulling back, she smiled, "You always were a great kisser." She opened the passenger door. "Hope I'll be seeing more of you . . ." She trailed off, her eyes diving towards his crotch. Bailey smiled, and waved her off. "Call me." He tossed his business card in her direction. She smiled, and closed the door shut.  
  
Bailey looked back in the rear-view mirror and noticed Sam was sitting upright, staring out the window. "Sam?" He asked.  
  
Her eyes shifted in his direction, but she didn't even bother to turn her head. Sam had seen and heard the exchange between Bailey and Liz, and it sickened her. It almost made her physically ill that Bailey was with someone else, now. That he was going to be having . . . with someone else. «That he loves someone else.» She thought to herself sadly.  
  
Bailey pulled up to his house and opened the door for Sam. "Don't worry : a little rest, and you'll be good as new. I'll cook you dinner, and draw you a warm bath, okay?" He told her, placing his arm around her waist and guiding her to the door.  
  
Little did both the agents know, was that they had been followed. The figure lurked behind some trees, drenched in shade and darkness. Only a small streak of smoke floated to the stars, gently swaying in the breeze, where the trees whispered, "Sam . . . "  
  
TBC 


	3. Under the Bathwater Sea

TITLE : Repercussions  
  
AUTHOR : Karen Gomes (pyrie@hotmail.com)  
  
CATEGORY : Even though it might look otherwise, it's SBR all the way.  
  
RATING : NC-17  
  
SPOILERS : Probably  
  
DISCLAIMER : All of the known characters/premises/plots belong to their respective owners. So there.  
  
SUMMARY : An old flame returns in Bailey's life, forcing Sam to confront her feelings for him. But, these feelings could have dire consequences.  
  
NOTES : Meh. Smut-illy speaking, I may suck. (No pun intended.) Enjoy! :)  
  
Cheers! Gomes.  
  
--------------- Repercussions (pt.3 ) ---------------  
  
Bailey's House, Atlanta  
  
Bailey sat on the edge of the tub watching the water fill up. He dipped his fingers in, testing the temperature. When the water reached his desired height, he turned off the tap and went to find Sam. He found her standing near the window in the guest bedroom. "Sam?" He gently touched her shoulder.  
  
Sam jumped, but tried to play it off. She didn't want Bailey to think of her as some fine China Doll that will chip and break everytime a little roughness presents itself. "I didn't hear you come in."  
  
Bailey wrapped his arm around her from behind, drawing her into a one-armed hug. Sam sighed contently and leaned into him, closing her eyes in the process. Bailey too, let out a small sigh, and both stood there, caught up in their own dreams. Bailey's eyes shot open. «I shouldn't be doing this, I should be distancing myself, not trapping myself.» He thought. So against his own will, he gently pulled away from Sam. "I'll start making dinner." He said, and walked away.  
  
Sam stared after him, and continued staring at the open door, even after he had left. She walked into Frannie's room and saw her dresser. Not wanting to snoop, Sam literally grabbed the first two articles of clothing and headed to the bathroom. Sam eased herself into the warm water, already feeling her muscles relax. She inhaled deeply, noticing that Bailey added a few bath salts to the water. The refreshing scent of lavender lay suspended in the air, so Sam leaned back and her eyes slipped shut. Thoughts and images of Bailey danced through her mind, echoing her deepest emotions and exploring her passion. Sam, with eyes still closed, gently soaped herself. She traced the length of her arms with the bar of soap, imagining that it was Bailey's strong hands that caressed her so. She soaped her neck, wishing it was his lips that sought her skin. The bar of soap continued it's journey across her breasts and down to her belly. Sam's hand inched lower, and her finger found her folds. She gently rubbed the outer area first, building a slight euphoric sensation. It has been so long since anyone had touched her there . . . had satisfied her. Most of it was due to lack of time and interest, but sometimes, the longing was too much to bare. Only when she thought of *him*, her 'David', her monumental sculpture of a man; only then did she feel desire, lust. Only then did the carnal cravings appear, almost with a roar at the bottom of her sleek belly. And it slowly creeped its way up, halting at her heart - tugging at it, to an excruciating point. Sam thrust her hips slightly, creating ripples in the cooling water. There was a sharp intake of breath, as her mind conjured images of Bailey's hand caressing her sensitive areas.  
  
"Sam?" Bailey called from outside the door.  
  
Sam's head jerked up. "Yes?" She said, a little breathless. Selfishly, she wanted to attain her release. She slowed down the pace slightly, but never broke contact with herself.  
  
Bailey paused a little, trying to figure out why she was in the bathtub for so long. "Are you okay? You sound out of breath."  
  
Sam's eyes grew wide. "I uh, am just doing some stretching, my muscles are really sore." She lied.  
  
Bailey's brow furrowed. "Okay." He stayed at the door for a few more seconds. "Dinner's downstairs."  
  
"Thanks." Sam heard him leave, and counted until fifty to resume. She sped up, and thought about how sweet Bailey was to be worried about her. She also ventured into the uninhibited areas, picturing Bailey slowly, passionately making love to her. Her body physically ached to come into contact with him. With her last thought plunging towards images of Bailey's arousal, her finger hit her sensitive spot and she bit her lip to prevent her from screaming out in ecstasy. Sam bucked her hips slightly as the wave of pleasure gently subsided. She rested a little more, trying to catch her breath. She washed her privates, and freshened up some more. The now-cool water helped immensely, and she looked rejuvenated. Sam put on the jogging pants and then slipped on the form fitting t-shirt. She looked in the mirror and her jaw almost dropped when she looked at the tee. The bottom had been cut off, and it literally stopped underneath her breasts. Sam placed her arms around her waist, trying to cover the exposed skin. «What is Bailey going to think?» Suddenly, a devious smile crossed her lips, as she looked at herself in the mirror. «Maybe Liz deserves a little competition.» She thought wryly to herself.  
  
--TBC-- 


	4. Foot in the Mouth

TITLE : Repercussions  
  
AUTHOR : Karen Gomes (pyrie@hotmail.com)  
  
CATEGORY : Even though it might look otherwise, it's SBR all the way.  
  
RATING : NC-17  
  
SPOILERS : Probably  
  
DISCLAIMER : All of the known characters/premises/plots belong to their respective owners. So there.  
  
SUMMARY : An old flame returns in Bailey's life, forcing Sam to confront her feelings for him. But, these feelings could have dire consequences.  
  
NOTES : Thanks to everyone for their feedback - it keeps me going. :)  
  
Cheers! Gomes.  
  
--------------- Repercussions (pt.4 ) ---------------  
  
Bailey's House, Atlanta  
  
Sam ventured down to the kitchen and took a seat at the table. "Need any help?" She offered quietly. She could feel the creation of a blush deep underneath the far recesses of her epidermal. Any moment, a stunning crimson hue would be splattered across her face. Sam hoped that Bailey bought her 'stretching-her-muscles' story.  
  
As on cue, Bailey turned around. "How are your muscles?" He asked, and Sam detected a slight hint of doubt.  
  
Sam mocked stretching. "Never better." There was a slight awkward silent moment that passed, each wondering about the other.  
  
"I invited Liz over for dinner." Bailey offered to break the ice. "I know you two aren't the best of friends, but I feel that you just got off on the wrong foot."  
  
"Funny, when I didn't have my feet on the ground." Sam bit back.  
  
Bailey leaned against the now cooling stove. "You don't seriously believe that Liz set you up?" Bailey let out a sigh. "How was she to know?"  
  
"Knowing the woods like the," Sam imitated Liz, "back of my hand . . . "  
  
"There still may be hope." Bailey shrugged, as the doorbell rang.  
  
Sam sat at the table, drowning in bitterness and loneliness. «Why must he always jump to her defense?» She asked herself. «The woman has the personality of a walnut.» Sam let out a silent chuckle. She leaned on the table and looked towards the front door. There, Bailey and Liz were tongue- tied and she was sure Bailey was fondling Liz's breasts. Liz had her hand down the front of Bailey's pants. «Must be the sex.» Sam thought blankly, trying to rid the repulsive image of Liz touching Bailey, that was now permanently burned in her mind.  
  
Bailey pushed Liz back slightly. "Liz . . . Sam's in the kitchen." He said, a little breathlessly.  
  
"She can wait." Liz purred in his ear.  
  
Bailey shook his head and smiled. "Let's go eat - I'm famished." He took her hand and pulled her into the kitchen.  
  
"Famished for what, tiger?" Liz smiled seductively. "Oh hi Samantha." Liz said, taking a seat. Sam just stared at her.  
  
Sam smiled tightly. "Thanks." She said, rather curt, when Bailey placed a plate of pasta in front of her. She watched as he placed one in front of Liz and then took a seat beside, across from Sam.  
  
Most of the meal was eaten in silence, only disturbed by sickening chitchat on Liz's behalf. Sam sighed and stretched under the table. Her foot came into contact with Bailey's and Sam's eyes shot up. He was still engrossed in Liz's story and it pissed Sam off a little. She unconsciously started rubbing Bailey's leg with her foot, gently gliding her foot up and down. Sam glanced at Bailey and noticed he was still not giving her any sign to either continue or stop. «Great, now I have an invisibility complex.» She thought, and then reflected on her actions. «I've never done anything this forward before.» She scooted her chair closer to the table in order to have a better reach. Her foot traveled up Bailey's leg and reached his thigh.  
  
Bailey, on the other hand, was getting even more worried. When he had first felt a foot rubbing his leg, he immediately thought it was Liz. But, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that the foot belong to Sam. He had quickly glanced at her, and observed that she was nonchalantly picking at her food. He decided to ignore it for the moment, hoping she would get the picture.  
  
Sam was just hoping that he'd say one word to her. Just one word, to acknowledge her existence. Sam looked at Bailey, again waiting for some reaction but his eyes never left Liz. She ventured a little higher, inching towards his arousal ever so slowly. Sam grinned as she saw Bailey's eyes quickly shift her way and then back at Liz. «Gotcha.» She laughed inwardly. She gently caressed his arousal through the material and watched him unconsciously chew on his lower lip.  
  
Bailey let out a silent moan and gripped his fork tighter. He was breathing a little heavily and Liz took notice.  
  
"What's wrong Bailey?" She asked, somewhat concerned.  
  
Bailey's eyes scanned the room, looking for a plausible answer.  
  
"Didn't you say you were feeling under the weather, earlier today?" Sam asked, not looking up. Her foot was still stimulating Bailey's erection and she felt him buck his hips slightly.  
  
"Yeah." Bailey exhaled. "Sam?" Bailey cleared his throat, trying to speak with his normal voice instead of the gruff one that echoed through the dinning room.  
  
"Yes Bail?" Sam finally made eye contact with him, and what she saw in his eyes took her breath away. A mixture of anger, caution, confusion, desire, and love danced in a melee of emotions. «Maybe I went too far?» Sam started questioning herself.  
  
"Can I see you in the hall for a second?" Bailey got up, leaving the napkin somewhat on his lap to conceal his aroused state.  
  
Sam silently followed him to the hall. «It's now or never.» She thought, finally summing up the courage to discuss her feelings with him. She found him leaning against the wall, his head back and his eyes closed. She looked down at the lump in his pants and felt herself getting moist.  
  
"What are you doing, Sam?" Bailey jarred her thoughts.  
  
Sam's eyes grew wide. She looked back down at his pants and tried to think of a reason for staring at them. «Damn it, he caught me.» She cursed herself.  
  
Bailey walked up to her and watched her with his deep chocolate-brown eyes. "Sam, you have to understand my position here . . . " Bailey started. "The bureau frowns, if not prohibits these kinds of relationships."  
  
"What about my position?" Sam objected. "What about my feelings?" Tears threatened to spill, for Sam's fears were confirmed : rejection. She dropped her head into her hands. "Since when do you adhere to the bureau?" She asked off-hand.  
  
Bailey dropped his eyes to the ground. "I'm sorry . . . " He breathed. It broke his heart to reject her, but it was what the bureau wanted.  
  
Sam nodded silently, and looked at him with puffy, red eyes. "I should go . . . this was a mistake." She choked out.  
  
Bailey caught her wrist. "Don't leave Sam." He pleaded with her. She tried to break free from his hold but he held her in a deep hug. "Don't fight me . . . " He whispered in her ear.  
  
Sam pressed her head into his shoulder and he felt tears crash right through his t-shirt. Bailey gently rubbed his hands over her back, stopping to touch her bare skin. "I'm going." Sam stated again, and broke free of the hug. She slipped on her shoes.  
  
"It's cold out there." Bailey said, trying to think of reasons for her to stay. Sam picked up his black jacket and slipped it on. "You don't have a mode of transportation." He reasoned. He watch her pick up his car keys. She stepped out of the door and headed towards his car. "Jack's out there." He said, instantly regretting it. He wanted her to be close - he wanted to protect her.  
  
Sam stood idly in front of the car. She turned around and just looked at Bailey. "You've changed." She whispered to herself. "We've changed." She turned and opened the car door, started the engine and backed out of the driveway. Sam cast Bailey a last sideways glance before driving off into the night.  
  
Bailey dropped his head in shame. This wasn't right - what he was doing to her wasn't fair. But there was nothing to be done . . . for the moment.  
  
--TBC-- 


	5. Dissection

TITLE : Repercussions  
  
AUTHOR : Karen Gomes (pyrie@hotmail.com)  
  
CATEGORY : Even though it might look otherwise, it's SBR all the way.  
  
RATING : PG-13  
  
SPOILERS : Probably  
  
DISCLAIMER : All of the known characters/premises/plots belong to their respective owners. So there.  
  
SUMMARY : An old flame returns in Bailey's life, forcing Sam to confront her feelings for him. But, these feelings could have dire consequences.  
  
NOTES : This chapter is a little longer than usual, only because I love to write the mystery/solving of the case. So bear with me, if you can.  
  
Cheers! Gomes.  
  
--------------- Repercussions (pt.5 ) ---------------  
  
Sam drove Bailey's car towards her house. «Screw being alone, it's better than seeing Bailey with someone else.» She slowed down a little, as it finally sunk it. «He'd made his decision - he's with someone else.» She sighed deeply, basking in his manly scent that seemed to have clung to the interior of the car. As she turned right, her home came into view. Suddenly, an array of red and blue lights alternately filled the now darkening evening. "What now?" Sam asked herself, as she dropped her head on the steering wheel. She watched in the rear-view mirror as a lone police car pulled up behind her. She pulled to the shoulder, throwing one last glance at her house. «So close . . . yet so far.» She mused, fed up with the over-used cliché.  
  
The officer stepped out of his vehicle and walked slowly towards Sam's car. He tapped on the window with his club. "Evening ma'am." He said, and tipped his hat politely. "Can I see your license and registration, please?" He asked, and went about observing the car.  
  
Sam's eyes grew wide. "Shit." She muttered under her breath. This wasn't her car. All of her credentials were at Bailey's house. "Shit shit shit." She repeated to herself, her hands gripping the steering wheel, making her knuckles turn a chalky white.  
  
"Ma'am?" The officer leaned in.  
  
Sam stared into his icy grey eyes. She observed his sharp face, and tufted mustache that seemed painfully out of place. "See, this isn't my car." Sam bit her lower lip.  
  
"I see." The officer stood up straight and took out his pad of paper. "Do you have any identification?"  
  
"No, but I live right up the street." Sam pointed to her house, but the officer didn't take his eyes of her; he didn't remove his cold stare from her face.  
  
"Unh-huh." The officer said. He walked around the car and wrote down the license plate number, walked back to his vehicle and typed something in. He approached Sam, who was just staring straight ahead, her hands still on the steering wheel. "Are you related to a Bailey Malone?"  
  
"No, well, I work for him and we're good friends." Sam started. "He let me borrow his car."  
  
"Good friends." The officer repeated. "Look, ma'am, I'll let you go with a warning." Sam nodded thankfully. "I'll just need you to sign this paper."  
  
He handed her a form and Sam took a little time to look it over. It was blank. «What, does he want my autograph?» She thought sarcastically to herself. She skimmed through the notebook, each page depicting a barren picture.  
  
"Oh, and miss Waters, promise me you won't go home." The officer remarked, casually.  
  
Sam nodded, her thoughts still on the notebook. Then, her eyes shot up. "Wait, how did you know my name?" She looked back up at the officer and a vacated spot stared back at her. Throwing the form on the seat beside her, she cautiously got out of the car and looked around. The cop car was still parked behind her and she ventured slowly towards it. Glancing inside, she saw a single red rose placed through the steering wheel. Sam stared at it, visions of Jack's hands on the steering wheel - following her from Bailey's house. Her thoughts were interrupted by the blaring intercom system in the car.  
  
"Car 32, do you copy?" A scratchy female voice boomed.  
  
Sam leaned in the car and picked up the receiver. "This is Samantha Waters of the VCTF division. Car 32 is safe, but there are no officers found." Sam proceeded to give the lady the coordinates, and walked back to Bailey's car, with the rose in hand. She delicately placed it on top of the notepad, and stayed in the vehicle until the police came to reclaim their car.  
  
Sam eventually headed back to her house, but stayed parked in the driveway. Something was telling her not to be there alone. She waved a security guard. "Has anyone been by?" She asked. The guard shook his head. "Thanks." She smiled, and reversed out of the driveway. Right now, the only safe place was with Bailey, but she didn't dare show her face - not after what had happened. "The rejection." She muttered aloud. "This is going to be bloody awkward." She thought of the days, weeks, months, years to come. She found herself slowly inching towards the VCTF command center. Shrugging her shoulders, she decided she might as well review the notes on the case, to help her mind stray from the painful reality.  
  
***  
  
VCTF, Atlanta  
  
Upon entering the building, Sam greeted the security officer. She got herself a cup of coffee and sat down at the conference table. Sam swiveled in Bailey's chair, reminiscing on how one's relationship can dissipate in mere seconds thanks to another one's entry. She glanced at the notepad, and headed for the lab. «What's blank to the rest of us, is a message from Jack.» She thought as she dimmed the lights and took out the black light. Shinning it over the notepad, Sam mechanically scribbled out the letters that appeared. When she reviewed it, she put her hand to her mouth in shock.  
  
"Home isn't where the heart is, it's right beside it."  
  
Sam couldn't figure out what that statement meant, but then again, when dealing with Jack, things were always vague. She was getting more and more frustrated at the seemingly dead-ends that kept slapping her in the face. «Perhaps some sleep is needed.» She thought to herself, eyeing the clock. Sam left the notebook there and went into Bailey's office. Leaving his desk light on, she curled up on his couch. She felt safe in his wake, almost feeling his presence. She fell into a deep, dreamless sleep, thinking about Jack's cryptic message.  
  
***  
  
Bailey's House, Atlanta  
  
Bailey awoke and stretched lazily on his bed. He glanced over at the sleeping body beside him. After Sam had left, Liz had almost insisted that they 'make up for lost time', as she had discreetly put it. They spent the night giving in to their desires, and both finally drifted off, exhausted.  
  
"Morning sunshine." Liz whispered in his ear. She kissed him aggressively on the lips, nipping at him. Liz sigh loudly. "I could wake up to you every morning." She said, draping her arm over his powerful chest. Her hand slid down to his sleeping member, and Bailey imagined it to be Sam's foot from the night before, gently caressing him. In seconds, his arousal sprung to life. "Ooh!" Liz cooed.  
  
Bailey grabbed her by the wrist. "Let's wait until later." He said, and proceeded to get up. "I have work."  
  
"Can't you call in sick?" Liz asked, opening the sheet to reveal her nakedness.  
  
Bailey leaned on the bed and gave her a small peck on the lips. "Later."  
  
Liz wrapped the sheet around her. "You're going back to *her*." She pouted.  
  
Bailey dropped his head on his chest. He was tired of arguing with her, over his relationship with Sam. "Look, I told you - Sam is a very special person, but we're not involved."  
  
"Okay okay, big boy." Liz conceded.  
  
***  
  
VCTF, Atlanta  
  
Bailey stepped into the building and headed for his office. He noticed that the light was left on. Furrowing his brow, he quickened his pace. He popped his head into his office and scanned the room. "Sam." He mumbled softly. He leaned against the doorframe and observed her, drinking in her beauty. She felt something for him - something more than friends, that he was sure of. He approached her and knelt down beside the couch. She was still wearing Frannie's clothes: the baggy jogging pants and the tight mini-tee. She looked sexy and adorable all at once. Bailey watched her naked belly rise and descend with each breath taken, each breath of life he had sworn to protect. She had draped his jacket over her upper-torso and was currently clinging to it for dear life. Bailey placed a hand on her bare abdomen and gently shook her. "Sam." He whispered.  
  
Sam turned around with a fright. Upon seeing Bailey, she pulled his jacket over her head. One, for being caught sleeping in his office, and two because she was so exhausted. "Ugh, what time is it?" She finally broke the silence.  
  
Bailey was mesmerized by her beauty. Her ruffled up hair, her clear face free of make-up; she just seemed to have this natural glow that emanated deep from within, and Bailey found himself plunging head-first. He looked down at his hand, realizing that it was still on her stomach, but was now caressing her gently. He glanced up when a small moan escaped from Sam's lips. "Sam . . . " he whispered, feeling his heart race.  
  
Sam looked deep into his coffee eyes and saw reflections of desire with a hint of love. «Maybe there's hope.» She thought. The two just stood, holding each other's gaze.  
  
"Boss." John stood, both hands holding on to the door frame. His voice dripped with worry. Both Sam and Bailey looked at him. When John's eyes fell on Sam, relief washed over his face. All three looked at each other.  
  
***  
  
Samantha Waters's House, Atlanta  
  
Several Atlanta PD cars were parked around the compound surrounding her house. A bright yellow tape had been wrapped around near the entrance. Sam gripped Bailey's jacket that she was still wearing. Bailey placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her to the chief. "What happened?" He asked.  
  
"Two officers," he pointed to two men sitting in the back of an ambulance, "heard a loud bang from inside the house. They confirmed that no one was in it, for Miss Waters had stopped by the night before."  
  
Sam nodded. "I just wanted to check if everything was okay because . . . " She trailed off when Bailey raised his eye-brow.  
  
The chief officer hesitated, then continued. "The two officers went in to inspect, and it turned out that there was a carbon monoxide bomb in the house." All three looked at the building. "It's a good thing you didn't come home last night, or I'm afraid you wouldn't have survived." The officer continued off the agents' perplexed looks. "Carbon monoxide, as you know it, is weightless, odorless and colorless. You would have heard a loud bang, possibly from a box that was mailed to you, but by the time you would have realized this, it would have been too late. My men were only in there for less than two minutes and they came out with respiratory problems." The officer scratched his head. "I've never heard of a carbon monoxide bomb in a residential area before . . . "  
  
Sam and Bailey exchanged looks. "Thank you for your time." Bailey shook the man's hand, then turned to Sam. "Why didn't you go home?"  
  
"I didn't want to be alone." Sam answered quickly and started walking towards the car. "Let's go to work."  
  
Bailey grabbed her wrist. "Obviously something spooked you, so what happened?"  
  
Sam exhaled loudly out of frustration. "Jack happened again, okay? He was dressed as a police officer, in a stolen PD car. He advised me not to return home -"  
  
" -it could have been a trap!" Bailey interjected. "You're safe at home."  
  
"Look at it! Where do you think I would be if I'd been at home?" Sam said, close to tears. Everything was upside down and it was frustrating her to a point of tears. She was being stalked and trying to be killed by one, and the person who normally stalks her was slowly becoming an ally. "It just doesn't make sense!" Sam wiped her eyes.  
  
Bailey pulled her into a hug, trying to fight away the demons that haunted her. "You should have stayed with me . . . " He mumbled in her hair. "I would have protected you. I'll always protect you."  
  
Sam pushed back a little. "You barely acknowledge my existence when Liz is around. How do you expect to protect me when I'm invisible?" Sam yelled.  
  
"This has nothing to do with Liz!" Bailey raised his voice too.  
  
"It does. You know how I feel about it, and it has everything to do with her." Sam closed her eyes, and let out a defeated breath. "It doesn't matter anymore, let's just go back to the VCTF." When Bailey hesitated, Sam pressed on. "Should we continue to stare at my house? They sent in some officers that deal with biochemistry, and it'll take a few weeks to completely air out the house."  
  
Bailey sighed and followed Sam to the car. They drove to the VCTF in silence.  
  
***  
  
VCTF, Atlanta  
  
Once there, Bailey handed her yesterday's suit. "It's clean." Sam smiled a thank you, and left to change. Bailey went into his office and lay down on his couch, exactly where Sam had been lying. He reveled in her soft scent, until his eyelids threatened to close. Glancing towards the conference room, he noticed that most of the members had already gathered.  
  
"Okay, what do we have for the Jepson's case?" Bailey asked, taking a seat.  
  
"I did some research, to see if there had been some similar cases." George said, hunched over his computer. "So far, there have been four, all close to this area."  
  
"Let's hear them." Bailey said, taking out a notepad. Sam stared at it, then remembered the one Jack had left behind. She made a mental note to look it over later.  
  
George flipped the switch and four bodies where projected on the screen. "The victims, in alphabetical order are, Jenny Baker; Kelly Green; Phillip Gunter and finally Vicky Hill." George stared at his screen. "Funny enough, it's categorized by date of death." He looked up and shrugged at the weird coincidence.  
  
"Sam, did you pick up anything?" Bailey asked, casting his eyes towards her.  
  
Sam didn't meet his gaze. "When I was in the woods, I just received these weird images of a heart. One being broken. So my first suspicion would be jealous ex-lover, or even current. Someone who, maybe got hurt." Sam looked at George. "Could you put the Jepson picture up, please?" George nodded. Sam stood up and walked to the screen. "Obviously, there's a lot of hatred towards this woman." She pointed to the bruises on her face and arms. Sam narrowed her eyes. "George? Can you zoom in here?" She pointed to a part on the victim's neck. George did, and Sam pointed to a reddish dot. "I think she was drugged first - incapacitated, thus enable to put up a fight." Images of Marta semi-struggling against her aggressor flashed through Sam's mind.  
  
"What about burying her?" John interrupted. "Is it maybe a symbolism - burial ritual."  
  
"Like her grave?" Grace added, stepping into the conference room with some papers in hand.  
  
Sam pondered. "It seems as if it portrays something more than the obvious, something . . . deeper?"  
  
"Than six feet?" John joked. His grin faded fast when Bailey cast him a disapproving look.  
  
"What did you get on the autopsy, Gracie?" Bailey turned towards her.  
  
"Well," she placed an acetate on the projector, "this is Marta Jepson when we dug her up." All looked at the picture of a 30-something, brown haired woman. She was casually clothed: dressed in a black t-shirt and a pair of jeans. "She studied at Quantico, in Forensic Science. Took a few side courses in Profiling as well." Grace looked towards Bailey. "In your class, I do believe."  
  
Bailey shrugged. "The name seemed familiar, but I don't remember her face. But then again, I've had so many students before . . . " Bailey trailed off.  
  
"She was very shy." Sam sat back in her seat. "We studied once together, and she never made eye contact." Sam tapped her fingers lightly on the table. "Highly educated woman, she also took a few field classes." Sam smiled sadly. "One thing she said, and I guess it stuck with me, was that she wanted to make a difference in the world - but not just one." Sam looked back at the picture. "She wanted to experience everything, that's why she jumped from profession to profession."  
  
"And last but not least, she became a victim and dinner for maggots and worms." Bailey muttered morosely.  
  
"You could say that she had baited breath, hunh?" John cracked. The team just shook their head.  
  
"Anyway." Grace continued, ignoring John. "So, we took her for the autopsy, right? We unclothed her and prepared for the incision from the top of the neck to the bottom of the abdomen. This allows us access to her liver, stomach, intestine . . . essentially all the major organs that could clue us in to anything ingested."  
  
"Sam thinks that she may have been drugged - administered something by force." Bailey added.  
  
"That's what we found, actually." Graced thumbed through her papers. "There was a strong anesthetic that was injected in her blood stream." Grace placed another picture on the projector. "But that's not what bothered me." She showed the team a picture of a woman with a sowed incision in her chest. "This is Marta, before we got the chance to do an autopsy."  
  
"Maybe she had a previous operation?" John asked.  
  
"I've checked the medical records, and the only operation she had was to get her appendix out." George said, looking through some of his printouts.  
  
"So unless the appendix took a road trip to visit the heart, this woman had already been cut open." Grace shook her head. "But that's still not the end." Bailey raised his eyebrow. "She didn't have a heart."  
  
"You mean, she was cruel?" John asked.  
  
"No, I mean literally, she didn't have a heart." Grace shrugged, unable to provide any a reasonable meaning.  
  
Sam bit her lip. "Can you find out if Marta had an ex, a husband, a close friend . . . " Sam asked George.  
  
"You think that, to signify the pain that the killer went through, he took out her heart, sowed her back together and then buried her?" Bailey asked.  
  
"I think it's different . . . it's more complex." Sam said, but she couldn't put her finger on it. "George, tell me about the others."  
  
"Okay, Jenny Baker. 40 year-old mother, she recently graduated from . . . Quantico." George looked up. "Coincidence?" He said aloud. He typed a little more. "They were all agents, or agents in training." He finally said. "Kelly Green, 25, was an intern for the CIA. Her body was found near Arizona, in a forest." George typed some more. "Gunter, 37 year old detective for Atlanta PD. Did a lot of undercover work. His body was found here, in the same woods."  
  
Bailey chewed on his lower lip. These names were so familiar, and the fact that they all studied at Quantico was slowly confirming his fearful suspicions.  
  
"Finally, Vicky Hill. 42 year old, secretary for the Washington PD. Her body was also dug up from the woods."  
  
The team was silent. Though there was no variation in the value of a human life, things seemed different when it was one of their own. "We will get to the bottom of this." Bailey finally said, through clenched teeth. "John, find out a close relative of Marta's. Sam, go talk to anyone who knows Philip Gunter. I'll take Kelly Green's relatives and George, I need you to get information on Vicky Hill." Bailey stood up and looked at his team. He opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it. He left silently and went to his office.  
  
John eyed Sam. "What was that about?"  
  
"What makes you think I know?" Sam asked, gathering her papers.  
  
"C'mon, you know everything about Bailey and Bailey knows everything about you . . . it's just natural to assume that you know what's wrong with him."  
  
"Well, you can ask Liz -" Sam said closing the folder.  
  
John put his hand on the folder. "Woah, who's Liz?"  
  
"His new girlfriend. Apparently, she taught with him at Quantico . . . and let's just say that they did more than just *teach* together." Sam said flatly.  
  
"And you're not okay with him having a girlfriend." John said slowly. He knew there was something going on between Sam and Bailey, but neither would admit it. Maybe now would be his chance.  
  
Sam paused and stared at John. "I have an interview to do, excuse me." She yanked the files and left the conference room.  
  
John sighed. It wasn't his job to play Cupid, but curiosity got the best of him. He ventured towards Bailey's office. "Bailey? What's going on with you and Sam?" John decided at the last minute, that the straight forward approach would best suit this situation.  
  
Bailey didn't even bother to look up. "Don't you have work to do?" He said, taking a puff of his cigar while looking over some files.  
  
"Who's Liz?" John sat down on the couch.  
  
Bailey rested his cigar in the ashtray. "This doesn't concern you, John."  
  
"Sam's upset about it."  
  
"But it doesn't concern you." Bailey snapped. "Look, it's really complicated at the moment, and I worry why neither you, nor Sam, nor anyone else here trusts me."  
  
John shrugged and left the room silently. Bailey just returned to his files. He made a quick phone call and scheduled a meeting with Vicky Hill's sister. He hoped she could supply a little information that would put his mind at ease concerning the murders of these agents. «All Quantico students . . . all of them were my students . . . » He was troubled as to what the team would think when they find out.  
  
--TBC-- 


	6. Truth be Told?

TITLE : Repercussions  
  
AUTHOR : Karen Gomes (pyrie@hotmail.com)  
  
CATEGORY : Even though it might look otherwise, it's SBR all the way.  
  
RATING : PG-13  
  
SPOILERS : Probably  
  
DISCLAIMER : All of the known characters/premises/plots belong to their respective owners. So there.  
  
SUMMARY : An old flame returns in Bailey's life, forcing Sam to confront her feelings for him. But, these feelings could have dire consequences.  
  
NOTES : Gah!  
  
Cheers! Gomes.  
  
--------------- Repercussions (pt.6 ) ---------------  
  
The team sat around the conference table early that morning, and stared at the vacant space. "Where's Bailey?" George asked, taking a large sip of coffee. John tossed him a napkin to wipe the leftover off of his chin.  
  
"Leave some for the fishes, Georgie." John joked.  
  
George gave him a blank stare. "But fishes don't drink coffee." John rolled his eyes in response, as George smirked. "Everyone hates a literalist."  
  
"Anyway, anyone know where the boss is?" Grace asked, and silence filled the room.  
  
Sam looked up from her files, distracted. All eyes were on her. "What?"  
  
"Where's Bailey?" Grace asked casually.  
  
"What makes you think I know?" Sam blew up.  
  
John bit his lower lip. "Okay Sam."  
  
"No! Why does everyone always assume that I know how Bailey is feeling, where is he, and who he's fucking?!" Sam got up and left the conference table.  
  
The team looked at eachother in the awkward moment that trailed behind Sam's outburst. "Must have been the coffee." John shrugged, as Bailey entered the room. He was still fiddling with his tie.  
  
"Sorry I'm late, folks." He said, taking a seat. "What do you have?" His eyes roamed the room, but he already knew who wasn't there; his heart didn't jump like it normally did whenever she was there. "Where's Sam?"  
  
"In her office. Women stuff." Grace covered. "Why so late?"  
  
Bailey cleared his throat. "Unforeseen circumstances." Truth be told, he and Liz had spent most of the morning body-to-body. «All in good time.» He thought, as he glanced towards Sam's office. The team looked at him expectantly. "We'll fill her in when she gets back. What do you have?" He turned to John.  
  
"Marta Jepson. Well, her days were much like Sam had described." John said, thumbing through his notebook. "She wanted to make a real impact, terribly shy, and so on." He looked up at Bailey. "According to her old room-mate, she had a terrible crush on you, big boy." John laughed.  
  
"John." Bailey threw him a warning glance. "Next."  
  
"I took Jenny Baker." Grace chimed in. "I spoke with her 20 year-old son. Jenny worked hard, and had recently changed her life. That's why she went back to studying. Thought the world was a dangerous place, and wanted to help keep it safe." Grace thought back. "Her son said that, a few years back, she had taken a course where she dropped out right away. The reason was because she was seeing the teacher, but the relationship didn't last, for 'X' reason." Grace looked at Bailey and raised her eyebrow.  
  
Bailey tapped his pencil on the table. "Next."  
  
George sensed this involved Bailey to a higher degree. "Vicky Hill, 42 year- old secretary. I spoke over the internet with a number of her colleagues. She was married awhile back, so I thought that maybe her ex-husband could be involved." George passed out a printout. "The reason for her divorce, which was filed by Jeffrey Spencer, her husband, was due to her having an affair while training at Quantico." George shrugged. "I figured, Spencer felt betrayed, wanted revenge."  
  
"So, what did you find?" John asked.  
  
"Spencer died a year after their divorce, be it seven years ago." George shrugged.  
  
"Did they find out who the mystery man was, that captured her heart?" Grace asked, looking at the divorce papers. George hesitated, and when she got no response, Grace glanced at him: his eyes rested upon Bailey.  
  
"Kelly Green." Bailey commenced, in a shaky voice. His eyes never left his paper. "25 year-old intern. She got the job after a recommendation from me two years ago." Bailey rubbed his now-tired eyes. "Something almost happened when she was 19, underage, and well." Bailey looked up at the team. "I paid my dues."  
  
"So." John tried to find a way to break the hardening ice.  
  
"Save it, John." Bailey put his hand up. "I know what you must think of me, but I can't change what happened, and I'm paying for it now." He sighed. "Shit happens sometimes, and you never think of the repercussions it could have at a later date." Bailey got up and picked up Sam's papers. He looked them over, nodded and tossed them back on the table. "I'm going home." He left without looking back.  
  
John glanced at the papers, as did everyone. He made a leap for them but Grace swiped them first. "Too slow, Johnny." She bragged. "The only male, Phillip Gunter. Worked as a detective, killed at age 37. Studied under Bailey at Quantico awhile back," Grace paused and looked at the team, "had a crush on Bailey, made advances."  
  
"Did Bailey kick him out of his class?" George asked, something pulling at his heart.  
  
"No.he just talked to the kid, told them that it could be nothing more than a teacher-student relationship, very professional. Gunter agreed, but his friends told Sam that he still worshipped Bailey from afar and kept telling people that Bailey was just reluctant." Grace sighed. "He really gave Bailey a hard time there, took pictures, broke into his office, stuff like that. But Bailey never pressed charges, and would often try to talk some sense into the boy. Helped him get his post as detective." Grace closed the file.  
  
"They're all somehow related to Bailey." John stated and the rest of the team nodded.  
  
"And Bailey is aware of that, too." George added. "What is he not telling us?"  
  
"Something so secret that even Sam hasn't been filled in." Grace shrugged helplessly. "We have to wait for him to make the first move."  
  
--TBC-- 


	7. Couch Talk

TITLE : Repercussions  
  
AUTHOR : Karen Gomes (pyrie@hotmail.com)  
  
CATEGORY : Even though it might look otherwise, it's SBR all the way.  
  
RATING : NC-17  
  
SPOILERS : Probably  
  
DISCLAIMER : All of the known characters/premises/plots belong to their respective owners. So there.  
  
SUMMARY : An old flame returns in Bailey's life, forcing Sam to confront her feelings for him. But, these feelings could have dire consequences.  
  
NOTES : Thanks again for the reviews. Fuel me up, baby! *grin*  
  
Cheers! Gomes.  
  
--------------- Repercussions (pt.7 ) ---------------  
  
Bailey stepped back into the office, when he was sure that all the other members would be away. He needed time to think and now that Liz had taken up residency at his house, he wasn't expecting it there. Telling her that he needed to review some cases, he decided to take a two-hour break to think and sort out the mess that fell into his lap. Stepping out of the elevator, he noticed that his desk light was still on. "Sam." He muttered, shaking his head. He walked up and poked his head in, as he had done the night before. There she lay, in all her splendor. She had changed back into Frannie's clothes and looked darling as usual. Bailey looked at the irregular rise and fall of her naked belly and concluded that she wasn't yet asleep. He took of his suit coat and vest, and rolled up his sleeves. He placed his chair opposite the sofa and sat there, just staring at Sam.  
  
Sam knew he would come back, to make sure that she was okay. It was just his style - his way of being. She didn't expect him to make himself comfortable and stare, which was starting to make Sam very anxious. "Are you going to stare all night?" She asked, slightly irritated.  
  
"I could." Came Bailey's soft response.  
  
"No, you couldn't." Sam turned towards him, pulling his jacket up to her chin. "You have someone waiting at home for you, and you can't keep her highness waiting." Sam bit.  
  
Bailey dropped his head to his chest. "Can't you leave her out of our conversations just once!?" He pleaded. Sam closed her eyes, pretending to sleep. "You changed back into Frannie's clothes." Bailey stated the obvious. «Anything to keep her talking.»  
  
"Hmm." Sam shrugged, and turned away from him.  
  
He watched her like a hawk, memorizing each curve of her body. He noticed the baggy jogging pants were slowly slipping down and he could catch a glimpse of a small portion of her fleshy buttocks. He let out a small chuckle.  
  
"What?" Sam asked, turning slightly, catching Bailey in his little reverie.  
  
"You just look adorable in that ensemble, that's all." He shrugged and sought her eyes, but she didn't hold his gaze.  
  
"Goodnight." She gripped the jacket tighter.  
  
"You can't keep sleeping here for two whole weeks, Sam." Bailey's voice softened. "Come home with me."  
  
"I'm fine, thank you." She said.  
  
Bailey sighed and got up. He sat down on the opposite side of the couch, taking Sam's legs and placing them in his lap. He gently massaged them, despite Sam's childish kicking. "Relax, Sam." He said soothingly. "What's happening with Chloe?"  
  
Sam bit her lip. "She's going to stay at her grandparent's house for the rest of the month. She doesn't mind - she loves it there. And besides, they love having her there." Sam paused and drew in a deep breath.  
  
Bailey's hand traveled up her foot and he started caressing her calf and thigh. "But, you miss her."  
  
"Desperately." Sam whispered. "I feel so alone, Bail." Sam got up and knelt on the couch, facing Bailey. He turned to face her, worry creeping on to his face.  
  
"Talk to me, Sam. Don't shut me out." He begged her.  
  
Sam looked into his dark, inviting eyes. "I feel that my little girl is going to be taken away from me. We're growing apart.I'm growing apart from the rest of the world." Sam choked on a sob. "I sometimes don't feel human - I've repressed my anger, fear . . . all those bad feelings, I've repressed them so much that I just go about my business almost mechanically." Sam passed the back of her hand under her nose. "I'm just scared, that it'll all be taken away."  
  
Bailey inched closer to her and cupped her face with his hand. "You mustn't feel this way, Sam." He sighed. "It takes its toll on everyone here, but you have to find ways to cope, to keep you human. Chloe was that way for you, and since she is away at the moment, you're just having these abandonment fears, but they'll all go away once everything returns to normal."  
  
Sam leaned in to Bailey's hand. "You kept me sane, human . . . all these years." It was a mere murmur, but Bailey heard and his heart fell.  
  
He passed his thumb over her lips. "Don't say that." He whispered, as she opened her mouth, giving it a small kiss before taking it into her mouth. Bailey let out a small moan.  
  
"What happened to us? Why did we have to change?" Sam asked, her hands finding Bailey shirt. Grabbing on to the lapels, she pulled herself closer, so that her knees were now touching his thigh.  
  
"Change can be for the good." Bailey stuttered, unsure of what was happening. "Sam . . . "  
  
Sam leaned in and gently pressed her lips against his. She straddled his lap, kneeling, her legs on each side of his thighs. Bailey responded immediately, his hands seeking her naked flesh, bringing her in, crushing her to him. "This has to happen, Bail." Sam breathed in his ear, as she gently caressed his powerful neck with her tongue.  
  
Bailey's hands creeped inside the jogging pants where he explored her toned buttocks. "Oh God . . . " Bailey exhaled as Sam pressed into his growing member. His mouth found hers, and he savagely attacked it, forcing her tongue to play with his.  
  
Sam sucked on his lower lip as she opened his shirt and ran her hands down his powerful chest. She bent down, blowing cool air on his nipple, making it hard. She then reached for it with her teeth, biting on it lightly, casing him to jerk forwards. "You're magnificent, Bail."  
  
Bailey's breathing turned ragged, as he helped Sam off with the t-shirt. He took her breast in his mouth, tasting every inch of skin he could. Sam's hands roamed down his strong back, and she bucked her hips towards him, inciting him. "Sam . . . we shouldn't . . . " Bailey said gruffly, but he was already helping Sam out of the jogging pants.  
  
"I have to . . . " Sam breathed. "I need you, I want you." She bent down and helped Bailey slide out of his pants. "I'm in love, Bail."  
  
Bailey had paused just to hear the last few words uttered. His pants slid to the floor but he never took his eyes off Sam. He felt that his heart was going to explode with the love that he felt for this woman, his angel. He pushed Sam back, forcing her to rest on the couch. Gently opening her legs, he lowered his mouth to her sex, tasting her, pleasing her. Sam brushed her hand through his hair, grabbing tufts whenever his tongue flicked her sensitive spot.  
  
"Bail . . . " Sam's breathing quickened, and Bailey sensed her release. He darted his tongue in and out of her moist folds; a strong euphoric aura enveloping them both. Sam closed her eyes as pleasure rippled through her body. "That was bloody amazing." She stated weakly, causing Bailey to chuckle. Once Sam caught her breath, she knelt down on the sofa, and forced Bailey to sit. "One good turn deserves another." She said, and began to massage his throbbing erection.  
  
Bailey gripped the edge of the sofa. "God, Sam . . . " He exhaled loudly. She began to pump his shaft, causing him to buck his hips, meeting her rhythm.  
  
Sam released him and placed her hands on his hips. "I work alone." Sam flashed him a smile, and bent down, taking his arousal in her mouth.  
  
Bailey threw his head back in ecstasy. "Sam . . . I love you too." He said, trying to fight and accept the wave of delight that flowed through his body. He gently combed her hair with his fingers, brushing it to the side, as Sam continued to pleasure him. When she felt him tense, she got up and straddled him again. Both moaned when Bailey entered her. He reached up, placing a hand behind her neck, and drew her in for another passionate kiss. "Sam . . . " Bailey knew he was soon going to go over the edge.  
  
"Me too." Sam said breathlessly. Bailey sped up his strokes as Sam came down, meeting her in a jubilant utopia of pleasured emotions. Sam collapsed against Bailey, slowly moving up and down as the sensation slowly subsided. "Incredible." She said, pressing her now sweaty body against his. Her hands roamed up and down his strong back, stopping at the base of his neck. She kissed the hollow of his neck and hungered for his lips.  
  
Bailey was in heaven. He was still buried in Sam, and the mere thought of her naked body was enough to spring him back to life. He tried to push his thoughts to something else, but he could never stop thinking of Sam. «She loves me.» He thought, and smiled distantly. Sam caught hold and smiled herself, kissing him gently on his grinning lips. She pressed her forehead against his shoulder, sleep and exhaustion finally consuming her. Bailey looked down and stroked her golden hair, placing a feather kiss on her forehead. He helped her on to the couch and gingerly dressed her. Once finished, he leaned on the couch, gazing at her eternal beauty, and feeling the love coursing through his veins. He held up his hand to touch her once more, but mentally stopped himself. «Not just yet . . . » He thought solemnly and picked up his suit jacket sans vest and walked out the door. Checking his watch, he figured he should go back to Liz, to clear things up. «Change can be for the good.» He repeated to himself, as he stepped out in the early hours of the morn.  
  
--TBC-- 


	8. It's Not Who You Think

TITLE : Repercussions  
  
AUTHOR : Karen Gomes (pyrie@hotmail.com)  
  
CATEGORY : Even though it might look otherwise, it's SBR all the way.  
  
RATING : R  
  
SPOILERS : Probably  
  
DISCLAIMER : All of the known characters/premises/plots belong to their respective owners. So there.  
  
SUMMARY : An old flame returns in Bailey's life, forcing Sam to confront her feelings for him. But, these feelings could have dire consequences.  
  
NOTES : Well, after a long hiatus, I'm back baby! Hope you're enjoying it! I crave reviews - it's what keeps me from eating humans.  
  
Cheers! Gomes.  
  
--------------- Repercussions (pt.8 ) ---------------  
  
Bailey pushed the key into the keyhole and the door gently swung open, leaving behind a faint creaking in its wake. He drew his gun from the holster, and pushed the door further with the barrel. "Liz." He said slowly, but he knew she wouldn't be there. «Has my plan worked?» He thought cautiously to himself, as he surveyed the damage in his living room: chairs finding refuge on the ground, drawers upside down, couch slashed with foam protruding from every angle. He let out a sigh and proceeded to his bedroom. «What was that person looking for?» He questioned himself. Opening the door carefully, he flipped on the light switch.  
  
"Wasn't looking for me." Came a faint whisper.  
  
Bailey's eyes darted towards the voice. "Liz." He approached her huddled body, placed between the wall and his bedside table. "What happened?" He gently cupped her face, a dark bruise forming near her left temple.  
  
"It wasn't me, Bailey." She choked out. "I wasn't right."  
  
Bailey dropped his head to his chest. He helped her up and put his jacket over her shoulders. "Then who?" He asked rhetorically. Suddenly, his eyes grew wide. "Sam!" He raced out of the house, telling Liz to call the police.  
  
***  
  
VCTF, Atlanta  
  
Bailey rushed passed the security guard, who merely looked up from his crossword puzzle and returned his attention to the difficult enigma that lay in black and white. He was used to Bailey rushing in and out, that it had almost become a regular routine.  
  
Bailey stepped into his office; it had been more than an hour since he had last seen her beautiful sleeping form, more than an hour since he had held her in his arms, more than an hour since he had felt her. "Sam, Sam, please don't leave me." He whispered to himself. He felt a hand on his shoulder. "Sam?" He turned around.  
  
"Sorry Bailey." George said, holding up a note with a handkerchief. The hacker watched his boss carefully, and put out his arms for support. Bailey almost fell into George's embrace.  
  
"I've lost her . . . " He choked.  
  
"We'll find her, boss." George said, gently patting Bailey on the back.  
  
Bailey stepped back, and went to his desk, looking the note over. "How does it feel to have it all taken away?" Bailey read aloud. His eyes rested on George. "Is Janet okay?" He asked, somewhat out of context.  
  
George nodded. "Spoke to her recently, just as a check-up, you know? She's having a blast in the Fiji Islands." He shrugged.  
  
"I should have known it wouldn't work." Bailey shook his head, off of George's confused look. He checked his watch, people would only be expected in three hours. "Georgie, call everyone A.S.A.P. There's something I have to confess."  
  
George nodded and left Bailey's office. "Sam." Bailey sighed her name, and glanced at the couch, where she had been lying not an hour ago. He could still picture her vividly, feel her . . . taste her. Heaven never tasted sweeter; but it was over. Done. Finished. He had lost. He didn't know how long he sat in his office, basking in self-pity, but John interrupted his thoughts.  
  
"We're all here, boss." He said, and retreated to the Command Center.  
  
Bailey stepped into the Command Center in somewhat of a daze. Mechanically, he sat down and began twirling a pen with his fingers. Letting out an audible sigh, he surveyed the people in the room. Finally, Liz showed up, taking a seat in Sam's place. "Liz is really undercover." Bailey finally spoke. "In a vain attempt to flush out a corrupt agent."  
  
Eyes grew wide as a hushed silence fell heavily in the room. "Who?" John asked quietly. It was always different when it was 'one of their own'.  
  
"Behar." Bailey muttered through clenched teeth.  
  
"Art?" Grace asked, incredulous.  
  
"The very same. Everyone at the bureau suspected him, but we never had enough evidence to prosecute." Bailey said, and then pointed at Liz. "The bureau felt the need to flush him out, before anymore damage was done. Since they knew of my relationship with Behar, they figured they'd use me as . . . " Bailey shrugged. " . . . leverage, I guess." He lazily dismissed his theory by a wave of the hand. "The point is, Behar is the one killing the agents whom have been linked to me, in one way or another."  
  
Liz chimed in. "I guess he figures he could deter the investigations by pinning Bailey in the middle of it all. That's where I came in. We noticed a pattern - how they all seem to relate to Bailey some way. We decided to pretend to be involved again, as much as we could, 24/7. All this to lure Art Behar into capturing me, and from then we could arrest him. Unfortunately, I wasn't convincing enough." Bailey raised his eyebrow as Liz playfully smacked his arm. "I'm an FBI Agent not an actor, damnit!"  
  
"He still feels betrayed that I 'lured' Ellen away from him." Bailey shrugged. "So, he retaliates by making my life a living hell."  
  
The team remained silent. "He has Sam?" George asked, though it seemed more of a statement.  
  
Bailey nodded and pointed to the screen. "Here's the note that was left in my office, where Sam was last seen." Bailey closed his eyes briefly, re- igniting Sam's face in his mind.  
  
"The writing matches Behar - seems like he didn't make an effort to cover up the tracks." George said, looking up from his laptop.  
  
"It's the end of the line, for him." Bailey said.  
  
"He doesn't care if he's caught, he has the one thing that Bailey cares most about, so however the outcome, he feels as if he's won." Liz said, her eyes darting towards Bailey, who just stared at her with shock. "Come on, your feelings are evident to everyone around you, and I have to give a plausible profile since you're obviously incapable of accepting any ill fate towards Sam."  
  
The team looked at eachother slightly amused. It took guts for someone to finally stand up to Bailey. «Definitely takes a woman.» Grace mused, a small smile on her face.  
  
"Look, your judgement is clouded at the moment, Malone." Liz continued. "Let me be your profiler until we get Sam back." She gave his forearm a squeeze. "We *will* get her back."  
  
Bailey chewed on his lower lip. "George, call Ellen and ask her of any known hideaways that her husband could have: cabins, caves, condos, houses, anything!" Bailey turned to John. "John and Liz, I want you both to search Art's apartment, office, anything. Get a warrant, if you have to. Gracie, I need you to see if you can lift any prints, paper matches off the note - I want to get this son of a bitch!"  
  
After much hustling, the team dispatched to their respective tasks, while Bailey sat alone in the Command Center. He folded his arms on the table and dropped his head, sobbing silently. «God . . . don't let me be too late.» He pleaded.  
  
--TBC-- 


	9. Buried Treasure

TITLE : Repercussions  
  
AUTHOR : Karen Gomes (pyrie@hotmail.com)  
  
CATEGORY : Even though it might look otherwise, it's SBR all the way.  
  
RATING : R  
  
SPOILERS : Probably. Ooh, character death included . . . sorry!  
  
DISCLAIMER : All of the known characters/premises/plots belong to their respective owners. So there.  
  
SUMMARY : An old flame returns in Bailey's life, forcing Sam to confront her feelings for him. But, these feelings could have dire consequences.  
  
NOTES : I've been having a few inspirational bursts of late, but haven't found time to actually type them up. Alas, I gave up my mad PS2-playing frenzy and decided to further develop my story. Hope everyone is enjoying it. Please read and review, I really enjoy feedback - be it positive or negative. (My sacrificial burnings have *nothing* to do with abrogating comments. evilgrin  
  
Cheers! Gomes.  
  
--------------- Repercussions (pt.9 ) ---------------  
  
VCTF Headquarters, Atlanta  
  
George knocked on Bailey's door. He was still sitting at his desk, but this time, staring into oblivion. "Boss?" George said softly, carefully advancing towards the desk. He didn't want to make any sudden movements for he knew how lunatic Bailey got whenever Sam was amiss. "Bailey?" George gently tapped him on his shoulder.  
  
Bailey look up, his eyes mirrored an abyss, a deep void space that echoed emptiness. "Sam?" He said, rather bleakly.  
  
George bit his lip. "I have two pieces good news, boss." He said, trying to sound cheery.  
  
"Two pieces of good news would be having Sam safely in my arms and Jack's head on a pike." Bailey said, not bothering to make eye-contact with George.  
  
George paused. "Okay, I have two pieces of semi-good news."  
  
"Let's hear it." Bailey said, getting up to fix himself a drink.  
  
George put his hand over Bailey's and shook his head. "Sam swore me to protect the bottle." He said, half jokingly. "Seriously though, drinking won't help you." Bailey glared at him and George was sure that he was going to get pummeled. "You wouldn't hurt the messenger, would you?"  
  
"Try me." Bailey replied in a sotto voice.  
  
George let out a nervous laughter and retracted his hand close to his body. He watched Bailey fall heavily on to his sofa. "Okay, good news number one : Ellen is safe. Unfortunately, we haven't been able to contact her, but four hours ago, an agent saw her coming out a Costume Shop on main street. . ." George looked at his paper, "Brouhaha Costumery." He raised his eyebrow. "We tried calling her cell, but to no avail."  
  
"It's okay, we'll contact her later - as long as she's safe." Bailey said, leaning back on the couch, the vacant look still apparent on his face. "It's like a dream, George." Bailey didn't look up. "More like a nightmare, incredibly surreal. I expect to see her in front of me, laughing, smiling. . ." He brushed a hand through his hair. "What will I tell Angel?" Bailey finally looked up. "Or Chloe?!" His voice cracked.  
  
"Calm down, boss." George patted his shoulder. "We'll find her in no time." He smiled reassuringly. "Which brings me to my second bout of good news." George walked to the door and motioned the Command Center with his head.  
  
Bailey raised his eyebrow and followed obligingly.  
  
***  
  
Unknown Location, Atlanta  
  
Sam awoke frightfully in motion. Everything was in darkness, but she could feel the bumps and movement of a car. Her vision blocked, her sense of hearing and smell was heightened; from what she could tell, it was an old car, with a crummy suspension and probably had a tendency to over-heat. She discreetly moved her hands, observing that they weren't tied or handcuffed. She reached for her blindfold but ceased when she heard a click right next to her ear. Time stood still.  
  
After some rustling about, she finally heard a man speak. His voice wavered slightly, and she sensed a lot of tension lodged in his throat. "Keep it on." He said, trying to sound authoritative, but all attempts failed. "You wouldn't want to get shot, do you?" He asked her, rhetorically.  
  
Sam didn't move again, and rested her hands in her lap. «Sounds like Art Behar. . . » She thought to herself. She smiled sadly to herself. «And all the while I was blaming Liz.» She let out a deep sigh realizing finally that Liz was probably a decoy, to fish out a leak in the bureau. She had glanced at the reports, and observed that all of the victims had been related to Bailey somehow. . . they had all been involved with him. Putting the pieces together - a little to late, mind you - she deducted that it must have been someone who had their lover taken away, either physically or emotionally. Behar fit the profile perfectly, for he had been on a rampage when he learnt that Bailey was seducing Ellen, despite them being divorced or almost. In Art's mind, reconciliation was just a breath away, but it was cut short when Bailey "took her away". Sam turned her head towards more rustling that was coming from the driver's side, beside her.  
  
Another deep breath. "We'll be heading to the forest." Art said, and paused. "You will go there, and keep your blindfold on or . . ." He paused, "I will shoot." They drove in silence for another minute. "When we get to the woods, you will start digging where I instruct you to dig. You will ask no questions or I will shoot. If you try anything funny, I will shoot. If you try to escape, I will shoot."  
  
Sam's brow furrowed under the blindfold. «He seemed mechanical . . . as if he had rehearsed what he was going to say.» She shrugged slightly; it was a pretty common trait, because the abductor wants to be in control, wants to appear dominant. If the voice quivers to much, or there's too much hesitation, their power decreases - not only in the victim's eyes, but in their eyes as well. And as tyrant, they are their worst enemy . . . their worst critic is themselves. The car finally pulled to a stop and Sam waited to be booted out of the door. She heard the driver side open, and then the back-seat door open as well. «An accomplice?» She questioned herself, frustrated that she didn't perceive the possibility. The passenger side opened, and Art's monotonous voice filled the air, as he muttered "get out" and yanked her by the arm. Through the blindfold, Sam could feel the cooling sun blinding her eyes. «Dusk. . . » She thought, worry creeping over her, engulfing every cell of her body. "Bailey." She whispered to herself, as a shovel was thrust into her hand. Hands guided her and pushed her down.  
  
"Dig." Art instructed, though the agitation was apparent. Sam bent down and started digging blindly, not knowing where she was throwing the dirt. After about ten minutes, she stopped and leaned on the shovel. Her arms ached, she was hot and the blindfold was retaining the heat and sweat, causing severe discomfort and an itchiness she couldn't shake. She rubbed her eyes over the material and heard a gun cocked behind her. "Just itchy." She mumbled and dug some more. She stumbled as a foot made contact with her back and she heard a distant 'clink' far below her. «Shit, what fell?!» She asked herself. «A ring? Necklace?» She didn't dare check, for she could still feel the barrel watching over her like a hawk.  
  
"Okay, now on your knees." Art said, placing two hands on her shoulders and forcing her down. "Give Malone my best." He said, though Sam oddly didn't detect any threat.  
  
"You don't have to do this." Sam said, pleading for her life. "I have a daughter - her father's already been taken away. . . don't deny her a mother figure in her life. Don't deny me my baby." She whispered the last part, knowing that her attempts were futile. One of Art's hands was still on her shoulder when she heard the gunfire. It tensed for a few seconds, then let go, letting her fall to the ground.  
  
"Ready made grave." A voice hissed.  
  
***  
  
VCTF Headquarters, Atlanta  
  
"Okay Georgie, what do you have?" Bailey said, sitting down in Sam's chair. The rest of the team soon joined, following suit. Liz took Bailey's chair, Grace beside her, John across from George.  
  
"Okay, well no one knows this but I rigged Sam's pager." George didn't take his eyes of his screen.  
  
"You what?" John asked, sitting up. George vaguely pointed to the large screen that adorned the Command Center.  
  
"When Sam dropped her pager last month, she asked me to repair it. So I added a small, undetectable tracking device, in case something happened to her." George said, a bit nervously. "I've been playing around with the program all afternoon, and I've finally got this baby to work."  
  
Bailey got up. "Georgie, you're a genius!" He gave him a friendly kiss on the side of the head. He then proceeded to leave quickly, grabbing his jacket along the way. "John, meet me in the parking lot - we're going to bring Sam back. Grace, Liz, stay here in case we need you." Bailey paused. "George, I'll call you on the car phone as soon as we reach. Let's look busy, people."  
  
John looked at Bailey leave then at George, grinning like an idiot. "Wow, Bailey must have been real happy to give you a kiss." John joked, off of George's un-amused look. "Just kidding, buddy." John leaned over the table, and grabbed George's face, pretending to kiss him passionately.  
  
"Get off!" George laughed, batting John away. "Go on, Romeo - you can't keep Bailey waiting!"  
  
"Damn, and all I wanted was some tongue action." John smirked and ran to the parking lot.  
  
***  
  
Highway 80, Atlanta  
  
"Okay, we're on the highway, George, now what?" Bailey bellowed into the phone. He was speeding down the road, following George's directions. John sat idly in the seat, clutching the arm rests.  
  
"On my map, Sam is displayed by a red blinking dot. To facilitate things, I added a tracking device in yours, Bailey. You are displayed by a blue blinking dot." George paused and typed a few commands on his keyboard. "Okay, so I added you to the map that Sam is on." George looked at the screen. "She's hasn't budged for the last fifteen minutes."  
  
"She's probably tied up or held in some cabin." Bailey said, taking in the wooded area.  
  
George paused. "Okay, take the next right - it should be a dirt road."  
  
"Done. Now what?"  
  
"Continue going, you're about one hundred feet away from her, boss." George said, watching the blue dot approach the red one.  
  
Bailey and John got out of the car. "There's no cabin, Bailey." John said, as he withdrew his gun.  
  
"Be vigilant, John." Bailey said, cocking his gun. "How am I doing, George?" Bailey called into his microphone.  
  
"Seven steps forward . . . okay, stop!" George said. He narrowed his eyes, and shook his head. "You should be standing right on her. . ." His words trailed off.  
  
Bailey's eyes grew wide. He glanced down at the soft dirt, kicking some up. Taking a deep breath, he fell to the floor and started digging with his hands. "Sam . . . oh God, Sam!" He picked up her pager. "No, no! She can't be here!"  
  
John heard Bailey's voice and rushed over. He looked at his boss feverishly digging and knelt down to offer assistance. They finally came into contact with something. "Boss . . ." John brushed some dirt away as some golden hair, soiled by the brown dirt, came into view.  
  
Bailey sat back on his heels. "This isn't how it's supposed to happen . . ." He said deftly. He bit his quivering lip as tears of grief fell to the moist ground.  
  
  
  
--TBC-- 


	10. The Right Before the Final Battle

TITLE : Repercussions  
  
AUTHOR : Karen Gomes (pyrie@hotmail.com)  
  
CATEGORY : Even though it might look otherwise, it's SBR all the way.  
  
RATING : R  
  
SPOILERS : Probably.  
  
DISCLAIMER : All of the known characters/premises/plots belong to their respective owners. So there.  
  
SUMMARY : An old flame returns in Bailey's life, forcing Sam to confront her feelings for him. But, these feelings could have dire consequences.  
  
NOTES : Thanks for everyone's support. grin It's much appreciated!  
  
Cheers! Gomes.  
  
--------------- Repercussions (pt.10 ) ---------------  
  
Juniper Woods, Atlanta  
  
John placed hand on Bailey's shoulder, as the older man rocked with anguish. "I can't believe she's gone, John."  
  
John chewed on the inside of his cheek. He felt tears sting his own eyes. "I don't know what to say . . ."  
  
Bailey tried to control his sobs. "Let's get her out." He motioned John to go to the other side, and both agents carefully lifted her as though she were still alive. They placed her on the ground softly, and the feathery dirt gently cascaded off the body. Bailey leaned down, and brushed the dirt off her face. He paused and his fist tightened into a ball. "That son of a bitch!" He stood up and paced wildly.  
  
"What?" John asked, and bent down. "Art." He looked up at Bailey. "Art in a wig." John let out a relieved laugh. "Bastard. There goes are number one suspect."  
  
"George." Bailey said, ignoring John. "Tell Grace and Liz to come to Juniper Woods, we have a body."  
  
"What happened to Sam?" George asked worriedly over the microphone.  
  
"She's not here . . . I thought - well it doesn't matter what I thought, all we know is that we found Art."  
  
"Excellent, will you arrest him?" George asked, still oblivious to the event that just transpired. There was a long pause. "Boss?"  
  
"Let's just say, Behar got what was coming to him."  
  
***  
  
VCTF, Atlanta  
  
The team sat around the conference room; Bailey was still brooding, but his mood had lightened up a bit, knowing that Sam was still alive. He twisted the bag with the wig in his hand. "Okay, Gracie, what do you have?" He asked, as she walked in.  
  
"Slightly different MO : the victim was shot in the chest, bruising the heart, but puncturing a lung.  
  
"So if the MO doesn't match, can we assume that it was a vengeful motive?" Liz asked, looking at some files.  
  
John shrugged. "Maybe one of the victims lovers . . . eye for an eye kind of deal."  
  
Liz pointed to John, following his lead. "You take my lover, I'll take you out?"  
  
Bailey sighed loudly. "I don't think so . . . it's more complicated than that."  
  
"It sure seemed like cold blooded murder to me. Clip through the chest. Ba- da-bing." John mimicked a gun with his fingers and prodded George in the chest to make his point.  
  
Thoughts of the 'Premature Burial' by Poe clouded Bailey's mind. "So if he didn't bleed to death, he suffocated under all that dirt." He stated.  
  
"Not quite." Grace said, and pointed to George who brought up an image on the screen. An image of Art Behar taken from the scene of the crime appeared before them. "Heart was removed."  
  
"Ba-da-bing." George imitated John, who just pouted.  
  
"But you said that the bullet damaged the heart." Bailey said, getting up to observe the picture.  
  
"Two theories as to why," Grace began, and put one finger up, "no trace of the bullet - my assumption is that it is still lodged in the heart, wherever it is." Bailey nodded. "Two, part of the lower ventricle was still settled in the body, where the bullet probably pierced and tore, leaving a delectable juicy piece that would make Hannibal Lector's mouth water."  
  
"Lovely imagery, Grace." John grimaced.  
  
"What can I say, I love my job." Grace laughed, off of everyone's disgusted looks. "I have to start working with a less-livelier crowd . . . my patients don't seem to mind."  
  
"Don't count on it, they probably complain from the grave." John muttered.  
  
Bailey tossed the evidence bag up and down, with a strange pensive look on his face.  
  
"Penny for your thoughts?" Liz ventured.  
  
"No . . . there's something I have to do." Bailey looked around. "Alone." He sighed. "Trust me, I'll be right back." He sped off to his office, slamming the door behind him.  
  
"That was odd." John's brow furrowed.  
  
"That was Bailey." Liz shrugged, and they all gathered around George, observing some more case photos and files.  
  
Bailey sat at his desk, and opened the bag with gloved hands. He manipulated the wig, and finally checked the label. He threw the wig back into the bag - his suspicions confirmed. He opened his desk drawer and took out a blank pad of paper. «This was on Sam's desk.» He thought to himself, and flipped through. «She said she found it when she was stopped by the police,» Bailey closed his eyes and corrected himself, «by Jack.» He curled his lip. "Jack." He reached into another drawer and pulled out a portable black light. He read the first page.  
  
"Home isn't where the heart is, it's right beside it."  
  
Bailey rubbed his temples. He got up and ran to the door of his office. "Gracie!" He shouted.  
  
Grace casually walked up. "We have intercom systems, you know." She said, sarcastically.  
  
"It's so impersonal." Bailey retorted. "Did we retrieve any of the hearts?"  
  
Grace narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, all of them except for Behar - why?"  
  
"Just curious - where were they found?" Bailey pressed on.  
  
Grace backed up slowly. "Let me make a call."  
  
"Ten bucks they were found right beside the body." Bailey muttered under his breath; a statement heard by Grace.  
  
"I'll take you up on it." She grinned and walked out, as a messenger brushed past her.  
  
"Mr. Malone." He handed him a letter, the retreated to the entrance of the building.  
  
Bailey eyed the boy distrustfully but proceeded to open the letter anyway. He nodded; two blank pieces of paper lay gently folded in his hand. Not caring about prints - they probably wouldn't find anything to begin with, he rushed to his desk and hurried to get the notes under the black light.  
  
"Must I do everything, Malone? Just get my Samantha back. . ."  
  
"Oh, you bastard!" Bailey tried to control his anger. He placed the second note under the black light, and a map soon surfaced. «That's not far from here . . . but should I believe him? Maybe it's just a trap . . .» He traced the essential part of the map, jotting down the easiest way to reach the warehouse that had been circled several times. He looked up as Grace opened the door, and walked to meet her half way. "Well."  
  
Grace didn't say a word, and handed him a ten dollar bill. She shook her head, perplexed, and walked out of his office.  
  
He closed the door and took off his shirt. Putting on a light sweater, he began to unbuckle his pants as Liz entered his office. He stopped and looked at her.  
  
"Oh please, I've seen your pride before." She rolled her eyes and sat in his chair. She discreetly looked at the blank pieces of paper, when her eyes fell on the map. "Quitting your day job?"  
  
He put on his jeans and finished off his ensemble with a black leather jacket. He struck an exaggerated pose, ignoring her question. "So?"  
  
"You're styling." Liz exclaimed dramatically. "So, where you off to?"  
  
Bailey shrugged, buying time. "A bar . . ."  
  
"I'll join you - I could use a drink." Liz said, getting up. A smirk flashed across her face, before she redeemed her professional demeanor. "So . . . ready?"  
  
Bailey closed his eyes, and took a deep intake of air. "You already know, so quit screwing with me."  
  
"I don't want you to jeopardize your safety, or Sam's for that matter." Liz looked deep into his eyes. "Call back-up, take John - hell, take me along."  
  
"No." Bailey gently pushed her back. "It's my past, my doings, my fault." He began to head towards the door, grabbing his motorcycle helmet along the way. "Let me fix it." He said and exited, leaving Liz feeling completely useless.  
  
***  
  
Undisclosed Location, Atlanta  
  
Sam strained against her restraints. "Why didn't you just kill me, like all the others? Why change now?"  
  
A figure stepped from the shadows and walked up to her. "Would you rather I have chosen the same fate as the others?"  
  
Sam retreated inwardly. "So, what purpose do I serve?"  
  
The figure just laughed and pulled out a needle. Sam watched as the needle was jabbed into her skin, and she suddenly felt the drugs beginning to work. She forced her eyes to stay open, but her eyelids felt leaded, and pulled her down, along with her head and the top of her spine. She lay there limp, as the shackles were removed, and she was then placed on a cold, operating table. "And now, we wait. If I know Malone, he'll come here alone to save his precious Samantha, the apple of his eye, the bitch that makes me sick!" The abductor spat out.  
  
***  
  
Shipshank Warehouse, Atlanta  
  
Bailey pulled up to the warehouse and got off his bike. He pocketed his keys and drew his gun. Cocking it, he felt adrenaline course through his veins. A certain excitement floated above him, which only gave him comfort in knowing that Sam was alive. He felt it in every fiber in his body; he could feel her heart beating with his. "I'm here, love." He told her softly, as he gently opened the door to the abandoned warehouse. He walked towards the light, in the middle of the building which mirrored an eerie hangar for haunted planes. Chains suspended from the ceiling rose to an abysmal ebon, and the floors - covered with cheap wood over cement - creaked with every step taken.  
  
He ran towards the table; there she lay, naked from the waist up, but illuminated by the soft glow of an overhead light. He grasped her hand, and caressed her face. His guard was down, but he couldn't leave her like this. He needed to feel her. He withdrew his hand, her face was like ice. He drank in her pale features, and almost feared her for dead once more. His hand slipped to her neck, where he detected a faint heartbeat. His own echoed in his ears, and he observed the syringe lying beside her - the contents not yet empty. He took off his jacket and covered her upper torso. His body jerked up when he felt the barrel of a gun pressed to the back of his head.  
  
"The gun, Malone." He dropped the gun. "Now, move away from her."  
  
"Sam, love, wake up." Bailey pleaded, ignoring the gun and the threats.  
  
"NOW!" The figure knocked the gun lightly against Bailey's head.  
  
"Sam, please. Let me see your eyes, your smile. Let me hear your voice. Let me feel you, one last time." A few tears cascaded down his cheeks, falling onto her pale cheeks. The gun came into contact with the back of his head, and Bailey stumbled forward.  
  
"I should have finished her off."  
  
"Sam?" Bailey still ignored the coercion, but kept pleading with the incapacitated love of his life. "I don't care if I die . . . I want you to be safe."  
  
He lifted her up in his arms, so that she was leaning against him, in a sitting position. Her arms hung limply to his sides, hidden by the jacket that he draped around her shoulders. Her forehead was loosely pressed against the top of his shoulder.  
  
The figure moved the gun past Bailey's ear, right in front of Sam's forehead. "You'll get your wish . . . you'll be the last person on earth to see her, to touch her."  
  
Bailey heard the gun cock and closed his eyes forcefully, bracing himself for the pain to come. He knew what he was going to do : at the last minute, he would lean towards the gun, sheltering Sam from the bullet. The gun went off and Bailey held his breath. Time stood still . . .  
  
---TBC--- 


	11. Shattering Revelations

TITLE : Repercussions  
  
AUTHOR : Karen Gomes (pyrie@hotmail.com)  
  
CATEGORY : Even though it might look otherwise, it's SBR all the way.  
  
RATING : R  
  
SPOILERS : Probably.  
  
DISCLAIMER : All of the known characters/premises/plots belong to their respective owners. So there.  
  
SUMMARY : An old flame returns in Bailey's life, forcing Sam to confront her feelings for him. But, these feelings could have dire consequences.  
  
NOTES : Almost finished - I hope you experienced the same amount of joy reading this fic as I did writing it. I have many ideas blossoming in my head as I write this, so hopefully I can block out my procrastinating personality just enough for my inspired personality to take over. grin Criticism is always welcome!  
  
Cheers! Gomes.  
  
--------------- Repercussions (pt.11 ) ---------------  
  
Shipshank Warehouse, Atlanta  
  
Bailey held his breath, then let out a few short, rapid breaths as pressed Sam to his chest, holding her close to his heart. He heard the gunfire, and had shifted his head in it's trajectory. He felt the bullet sting the side of his head, but heard a loud metal-on-metal 'clank' in the distance as well. He bit his lip, stifling his cry as a searing pain graced the side of his head, right above his ear. He gently lifted his trembling hand to the side of his face, and hesitantly touched the wound; warm blood caressed his fingertips, as his breathing grew deeper. «I didn't get hit directly. . . » He concluded, as he once again touched the shallow injury. He heard a 'thump' behind him, and braced himself for another shot: he was vulnerable and his assailant was in complete control of the situation. "I would rather die in your arms than leave you." He whispered in his lover's ear. He kissed her lightly on her temple and closed his eyes, waiting for fate as the ache slowly started to ease it's way out of his mind. He gripped Sam tightly, never wanting to let go, even when he was no longer of this world.  
  
"Bail . . . "  
  
It was but a faint whisper, but his heart heard it more than his ears. He dared to separate himself from full contact, and gazed into beautiful clear- blue eyes. "Sam . . . " He watched as she once again succumbed to the drugs. As her eyes shut gently, he heard something clatter to the floor. He looked down and noticed the syringe that had laid half empty on the table before. Bailey turned around briskly - Sam still somewhat in his arms. He supported her with one arm, and observed the suspect on the ground; one hand on the right side of her abdomen, while the other still clutching the gun. Bailey gently placed Sam on the table, and walked over to the suspect, forcefully removing the gun. He took out his handcuffs and tied her up, in case she wakes. He returned to Sam and stroked her cheek. "You did good, kid." He smiled, as a tear escaped. He took off his sweater and gently dressed her. He placed his jacket over his undershirt and took out his cell.  
  
"John Grant." John answered his cell hastily.  
  
"Pick me up." Was all Bailey replied, before giving him his coordinates.  
  
When the team arrived to the warehouse, they found Bailey sitting on the operation table with Sam in his arms. He didn't even bother to look up, for his eyes never saw such sweet and tender beauty; his vision was magnetically attracted to her and he couldn't pry his sight away from her even if he tried.  
  
John walked past the suspect as two doctors put her on the stretcher and carted her out. "I'd never would have guessed . . ." He said, watching the ambulance pull out. "Boss, how is she?" He asked, pointing to Sam.  
  
Bailey lifted his head and smiled weakly. It was then John took notice of the laceration right above his right ear. He was just about to open his mouth to call a medic. when Bailey cut him off. "If you know what's good for you, you'd keep quiet." The older man warned the younger one. John rewarded him with an uneasy smile and began to observe the surroundings.  
  
"Quite a place to hold you guys captive." He said lamely, trying to make small talk. Bailey just sat, staring at Sam, waiting for Grace to arrive. He didn't trust any doctor but her, despite most of her patients state and condition. Besides, he knew that Sam was only injected with some sort of anesthetic, and the fact that she had been able to open her eyes and function somewhat while under the influence, definitely had to be a good sign. "Ah!" John's exclamation echoed through the barren building. He popped up in front of Bailey, holding a jar with a greenish liquid. "Heart à la Art." He laughed morbidly.  
  
Bailey made a face. "That's Behar's heart?" He leaned in, and looked at the floating heart, peacefully laying suspended in goop. "What a treasure." He said, blankly.  
  
John pointed to a shelf behind Bailey, where several instruments and another operating table lay. "I think she was going to start a collection." He shrugged, motioning two extra jars. "Do you two want some souvenirs? They literally have your names written on 'em." John joked as Grace jogged in, to join the trio.  
  
"How is she, Bailey?" Grace asked, a little out of breath.  
  
"She's breathing, her heart's beating and she saved my life." Bailey said the last with such admiration that both John and Grace stopped short. "If she hadn't fought the drugs, and . . . " he paused, unable to continue. "I would have been dead." He finished abruptly. He gripped the sweater that adorned her.  
  
Grace put a hand over his and smiled truthfully. "Let's get her to the hospital." When Bailey hesitated, Grace moved her hand to the side of his cheek. "Trust me, she needs the rest. You can see her once she's released - just to make sure that the dosage, type of anesthetic and needle won't hinder her health. We have to take these things into account."  
  
Bailey nodded, and his eyes briefly drooped shut. He forced them open, and then cringed as the dull pain once again returned to his temple. He placed a hand on the side, and a small moan escaped his lips.  
  
Grace rolled her eyes. "Here you are with a hole in your head - which goes without saying - and you don't even seek medical help?!" Grace complained, as if she was punishing a three year old. "Seriously Bailey," she shook her head, "the things you get yourself into!" She let out a defeated breath. "What happened this time?"  
  
"The bullet grazed my head, that's all." Bailey said, defensively.  
  
"Geez, you make it sound as if it's an everyday occurrence." John muttered, as he ventured over to the area where Bailey instructed him to go. "Found the bullet." He said, passing his finger over a dented area in lead pipe.  
  
They finally got Sam unto a stretcher, after much debating and prying away from Bailey's strong arms. "I love you." He had kissed her forehead gently, and once again came eye to eye with her. He bent down to retrieve her lips with his, but she was soon carted away before he reached his destination. He knelt there watching, until the ambulance disappeared into the early morning mist. He sighed: at least Grace was with her. Bailey stood up from his kneeling position, and a wave of dizziness propelled him back down. He semi-consciously prepared himself to come into contact with the cold concrete, but instead fell roughly into someone's arms.  
  
"Woah, easy there!" John said, allowing Bailey to lean upon him. "Don't make me say 'I told you so'." He said, with a somewhat labored breath. He managed to half carry, half drag his now unconscious boss to his car. He looked around for another agent. "Here!" He tossed Bailey's keys towards the agent. "Take her slow, and not one scratch or even your great-great grand-kids will feel the wrath of Malone." John instructed the younger agent half-jokingly. He drove Bailey to the hospital and checked him in.  
  
***  
  
VCTF, Atlanta  
  
Later that evening, John sat down with a sigh. "Bailey's still unconscious, but stable." He informed Liz, George and a returning Grace.  
  
"Probably cashing in on those countless hours of lost sleep." Liz reasoned.  
  
"He lost a lot of blood, and they were surprised that he didn't collapse before." John added, as an afterthought.  
  
"You know Bailey - he'll overcome anything for Sam." George said, putting up the picture of Art and his organ. "Here's the last victim."  
  
"What a way to go . . ." Liz commented, with a disgusted look on her face. A faint 'beeping' resonated in the empty room. She picked up her pager and stared at it for a minute. She got up, smoothed out her suit and looked around the room. "It was great meeting all of you - now I know why Bailey always fights so hard for his team." She backed out of the Command Center slowly. "Give my best to Bailey, and tell him that I had an urgent," she shrugged, unable to think of a reason, "meeting of some sort - he'll understand." She laughed nervously. "I'm glad that Samantha's back." She waved a goodbye, and exited shyly.  
  
The team looked at eachother. "Sam will be happy. . ." John offered.  
  
"Sam will be happy about what?" A voice reached them, and they all turned around to see Sam walking slowly into the room. They all got up, giving her a fragile hug.  
  
"Good to have you back." George said, sitting back at his computer.  
  
"Yeah, we missed you." John said, as Grace kissed her on the cheek.  
  
"You can't get rid of me that easily." Sam said, her eyes scanning the room. "Where's . . ."  
  
"He's in the hospital, Sam." John said. "A bullet -"  
  
"- grazed the side of his head, yes I know." Sam smiled. After a long pause, "is he okay?" She relaxed slightly after Grace nodded a confirmation. "George?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Where is she?" Sam asked, as she fingered her keys in her pocket. John eyed her suspiciously.  
  
"No George." John placed a hand on the hacker's shoulder. "Sam, I'll take you there, but I'm not - under any circumstances - letting you go alone."  
  
"Honey, why don't you wait until Bailey's out of the hospital, and you'll both go." Grace offered.  
  
"No, I want to see her alone." Sam said, with conviction. "John, drive me there, but I'm going in alone."  
  
John rolled his eyes. "Damn, both you and Bailey - stubborn as donkeys." He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her to the parking lot.  
  
***  
  
Atlanta Federal Prison, Atlanta  
  
Sam walked down the hushed corridors and into a rather intimate room. She placed a chair in front of her and opened her files, letting them rest on the table. She took a sip of water, for she realized the effects of the drugs hadn't completely worn off.  
  
"Samantha, how nice of you to pay a visit."  
  
Sam looked up at her tormentor. "Ellen." She said, professionally.  
  
"Did you enjoy your rest?" Ellen smirked, and plopped down on the chair lazily. "I feel relaxed, though you were given much more of a dosage than I was." She muttered the last part bitterly.  
  
Sam drummed her fingers on the table. "Why didn't you administer the complete amount - why leave half of it still in the tube?" Sam asked plainly, she didn't feel like beating around the bush.  
  
"You must be full of questions, hunh?" Ellen's eyes sparkled mischievously. "Why did I kill all those people? What event in my childhood could have triggered this pent up anger? Why would I take my husband's life? Why torment Bailey?" Her eyes fell upon Sam's eyes. "Why torment you. . ."  
  
Sam felt herself quickly losing control over the situation. "Ellen." She pleaded.  
  
Ellen let out a throaty laugh. "From a respected FBI Agent's wife to a criminal on death row." She stated, semi-avoiding Sam's questioning gaze. "It's funny how one person's presence can completely alter one's relationship." Sam's eyes shot up. "Ah, I see you've felt it too."  
  
Sam retreated inwardly, putting her defenses up strong. "I see where you're heading. You're still trying to retaliate to what you believe Bailey has taken away from you."  
  
Ellen raised her eyebrow defiantly, taunting Sam to continue.  
  
"When things didn't work out between you and Bailey, you needed a fall- back, reassurance if you will. Art wouldn't take you back . . .would he?" Sam whispered. When she got no answer, she continued strong. "So you blackmailed him, threatened him, used every trick in the book to get him to do your bidding. But you knew you wouldn't need him for long, not until you got the one thing he cared about the most." Sam took another sip, to cool her burning throat. "So, you're trying to alienate me from him, aren't you? You want him to feel rejection as you've felt it . . . poison my mind, despite the fact that you are the venomous snake." Sam felt the anger rising inside, and inhaled deeply, letting out a soft and controlled exhalation.  
  
"Interesting perspective" Ellen shrugged, "though I've done nothing wrong." She laughed. "I did them a favour."  
  
Sam smiled a little and looked at her intently. "Everyone who had been somewhat rejected by Bailey, you thought you were saving them . . . and in the meantime putting Bailey under fire. You knew it wouldn't take long for people to put two and two together once background checks were conducted." Sam continued to study Ellen's behaviour. "Removing their hearts . . . the one thing he had abused."  
  
Ellen tried to change the subject. "You think he loves you."  
  
Sam never took her eyes off Ellen. "I don't question that." She said, with confidence.  
  
Ellen leaned on the table. "He told me he loved me. When we made love, or just lay together." She paused. "Words mean nothing to him. He uses you, spits you back out when he's done and leaves you in a state that even your ex-husband couldn't endure." Ellen barked, emotion finally becoming evident on her tired traits.  
  
Sam remained calm, accepting that the ball was now in her court. "Why require the need to say it, when you can feel it in your heart?"  
  
"How do you know he feels it?" Ellen whispered. "Love doesn't always work that way, kid." She leaned back, a pensive look on her face. "Hell, you might sleep with him, bear his children . . . but one night, when he moans someone else's name - what happens then?" Ellen observed Sam. "It changes everything, despite trying to ignore it. Always, in the back of your mind, you'll feel it there. Everytime he touches you, kisses you, makes love to you . . . you'll always remember that you're second choice." She paused. "Leftovers."  
  
Sam's brow furrowed. «What role *did* Liz play in this.» Grace had explained that she was just a decoy, but then why didn't Ellen go after her? «Why go straight to me?» She shook her head. «But if Bailey could fool me with his love, what is and what isn't a charade?» She looked up at Ellen questioningly.  
  
"He hurt me, and look what it pushed me to do." She said placidly.  
  
Sam stood up and began pacing. "Don't blame this on him!" She threatened, though it was meager.  
  
"How would you feel when the one person you love with all your heart, who has promised you the stars, who has shared countless nights of becoming one - suddenly turns around and says that 'they've been living a lie, and there's someone else." Ellen stood up and walked to the door. She banged on it a couple of times. "How could you live? Anger, resentment, frustration, hatred, pity, depression . . . should I go on?" The door opened and a guard took her by the arm. "I still love him." She whispered, as she was dragged out, leaving a confused Sam in her wake.  
  
***  
  
VCTF, Atlanta  
  
Sam sat patiently in Bailey's office. She knew he would stop off here to make sure she was alright. Her house was not yet ready, thus she was still temporarily homeless. She had just finished a quick call to Chloe when he walked in. Sam held her breath as he stepped in front of her.  
  
Bailey extended his hand lovingly to her, and she fought a losing battle of resistance. He helped her up and enveloped her into a crushing hug. "I was so worried." He murmured in her ear.  
  
Sam felt his body shake with silent sobs, and she began to block out what Ellen had been polluting her mind earlier with. "I knew you'd come. . . I knew you wouldn't leave me." She pressed her body closer to his, wanting to mould herself into him.  
  
"I'll always be there for you, love." He said, finally breaking slightly apart to look at her. "I never want to miss another laugh, smile, tear . . . breath."  
  
Sam smiled, touched. She leaned up, inching towards his parted lips. Her lips brushed slightly against hers, and he bent down to catch her upper lip between his teeth when they were interrupted by a voice.  
  
"Bailey." Liz called out from the door. "Samantha, sorry to interrupt." She motioned for her to step outside.  
  
Sam looked at Bailey, waiting to see his reaction. Bailey eased his hold on Sam. He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her outside. "It'll just be a second." He reassured her, and gave her shoulder a squeeze.  
  
Sam stared at Bailey in disbelief, even as the door closed in her face. She watched as Liz leaned in and spoke in hushed tone, and finally Bailey responding by lifting her into a tight hug and planting a kiss on her cheek. Ellen's words flooded Sam's thoughts. "Too good to be true. . ." She muttered to herself, as she made her way hastily towards the elevator.  
  
--TBC-- 


	12. We Can Work It Out

TITLE : Repercussions  
  
AUTHOR : Karen Gomes (pyrie@hotmail.com)  
  
CATEGORY : Even though it might look otherwise, it's SBR all the way.  
  
RATING : R  
  
SPOILERS : Probably.  
  
DISCLAIMER : All of the known characters/premises/plots belong to their respective owners. So there.  
  
SUMMARY : An old flame returns in Bailey's life, forcing Sam to confront her feelings for him. But, these feelings could have dire consequences.  
  
NOTES : Alas, my fic draws to a close, and I would just like to thank everyone for their supportive comments - it helped fuel my cravings to express my thoughts and share it with you guys. Just a word of caution, I enjoy sappy endings . . . it makes me smile. grin  
  
Cheers! Gomes.  
  
--------------- Repercussions (pt.12 ) ---------------  
  
Bailey watched as the elevator door opened. "Sam!" He called out, as he rushed out of his office. He ran up to the doors just as they closed. "Damn!" He hit the door with the palm of his hand, and then opted for the staircase. Skipping two or three stairs at a time, he reached the parking lot, where he hoped she'd be. The doors opened to reveal an empty elevator. Bailey dropped his head in defeat. His cell phone rang and he answered it on the first ring. "Sam?"  
  
There was silence on the other end.  
  
"Sam, love, don't leave me."  
  
Finally, she spoke. "Did you really leave me much choice?"  
  
"What are you talking about? Sam, I want you by my side." Bailey begged.  
  
"So you can toss me away?" Sam answered bitterly. "I can't stand getting hurt again, Bail. Too many scars on my heart . . ." She replied distantly.  
  
"Sam, don't give up on something that hasn't even started." Bailey paused, and bit his lower lip. "I love you, Sam. I love you with all my heart and I know it's not wrong. I've never felt this way for anyone -"  
  
"- as you have said to countless women." Sam interrupted.  
  
Bailey leaned against the wall. "You went to see her." He stated. "You can't listen to what she says. . ."  
  
Sam paused on the other end of the phone, and a sob escaped her throat. "Sorry . . . " She whispered. "There isn't much evidence contradicting her statement . . . "  
  
Bailey listened to the silence, which was inevitable disturbed by the dial tone. He walked solemnly back up to his office and plopped down on the couch.  
  
"Looks like you lost a war." Liz stated, sipping his scotch.  
  
"She just ran out and I don't even know where to find her." Bailey grabbed the scotch from Liz's hand and downed it. The liquid felt warm going down and relaxed his tired body.  
  
"Knowing Sam, from what I have read in her files and by keen observation," Liz shrugged, "she'll go to the one place she feels utterly safe. She's obviously hurting right now, physically or psychologically so she'll seek refuge in the one place she trusts."  
  
"But the safe house is still being fumigated . . ." Bailey trailed off after observing Liz shaking her head. She looked at him intently. "My house?" He asked, as she cocked her head to the side. "But she knows that's the first place I would look. If she's trying to avoid me, why would she go there?" Bailey began to pace.  
  
"You really don't have a clue about women, do you?" Liz laughed, off of Bailey's shy smile. "She wants you to find her, it's as simple as that."  
  
Bailey hugged her gently. "Thanks." He stated genuinely. "And good luck with Quantico, you'll make a hell of a teacher."  
  
Liz picked up her jacket. "Couldn't have done it without your recommendations. We'll have dinner sometime, my treat."  
  
"I'll pick the place." He winked and ushered her out of his office. They parted at the parking lot, Liz heading to her own life and Bailey creating his new one.  
  
***  
  
Bailey Malone's House, Atlanta  
  
He walked into his house and lazily hung up his coat. He noticed that his alarm had been deactivated. «So, Liz was right.»  
  
He stepped into the living room and made himself a scotch and sat down on the couch. A fire had been made, and the hypnotic movements of the flames warmed his heart.  
  
"Just for the record, I had no where else to go." Sam stated, and sat down in the lazy boy that was idly placed to the right of the sofa. She reached and removed the small decorative pillow from underneath her and grimaced at Bailey's decorating technique : an red pillow on a wine-red lazy boy.  
  
Bailey smiled, never taking his eyes of the fire. "I'm glad you're not mad anymore."  
  
"I'm still mad, Malone." Sam huffed, and hugged the small pillow to her chest. She watched as the fire danced, creating a mixture of shadows and lights across his profile. She observed him as she had done countless times before; the way his sly half-smiles would make her knees weak, the way his sensuous voice would cause her body to tingle with delight, the way his mere presence would cause her heart to palpitate at an increased speed. She continued watching him in silence, knowing that he was aware that he was being observed.  
  
"Enjoying the view?" He struck a pose and grinned sheepishly.  
  
"It's not funny, Bail." Sam tried to keep a straight face. «Leave it to him to always make me feel better.» Her smile soon faded as she remembered Ellen's words. «How long before someone else enters his life» But she could no longer fight the feelings that haunted her night and day. During the day, her eyes could not be pulled from his form nor her heart from his being. And as the sun set, images and sensations would consume her dreams, leaving her alone and yearning for his touch. She let out a sigh and got up. She stopped in front of him, hesitating.  
  
Bailey could feel her inner conflict, yet he was at a loss for words. When he finally opted to speak, she had disappeared into the spare bedroom, tossing a cold "good-night" over her shoulder. Bailey finished his scotch and headed to the bathroom. After a cold shower, he crawled into bed - shivering under the sheets. He usually slept in the raw, but due to Sam's presence, he opted for a simple two-piece black pajama set, to which he left the shirt un-buttoned. He closed his eyes and images of Sam lay heavily on his heart. He hadn't really taken the time to process all that had happened, and finally came to terms with the burden that Sam had been carrying all of this time: a stalker taking away the things his or her victims care mostly about. Bailey sat up swiftly. «I almost lost Sam . . . » He swallowed hard as tears of realization surfaced. The more he thought about life without her, the more upset he got.  
  
"For the record, I don't want to be alone tonight." Sam said softly, walking in with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, mirroring an image of a cocoon. Her presence jarred Bailey out of his revelations, and he tried to shake off his moment of weakness as being sleepy. Sam observed him closely. "What's wrong?" She asked, worried by her mentor's behaviour. She had never seen him shed tears, only once when Frannie was on the loose. She had been lucky to get close enough to console him, and since then, 'Bailey the Rock' had once again taken control. She gently knelt on the bed beside him. "Is it about us?" She asked, touched that this relationship means so much to him.  
  
Bailey nodded slightly and looked down at the covers. "It's nothing Sam. . .get some rest, huh?" He tried to change the subject.  
  
"I'm not going out there alone." Sam stated, and began getting under the covers.  
  
Bailey shook his head. "Sam, I don't think it's such a good idea."  
  
"Why? Are you ashamed of me, Bail?" Sam provoked. She wanted to get everything out of her system, everything she felt - all of her dreams and fears. She wanted to make sure that she wasn't putting her heart at risk.  
  
"Sam, nothing could be further from the truth." Bailey muttered. "Don't give up on us, Sam." He buzzed in her ear. He pulled her into his embrace, stroking her hair lovingly.  
  
"Don't give up on me, Bail." Sam whimpered into his throat.  
  
"You don't know the impact you've had on my life." He kissed her temple. "We'll make it work, I promise." He cocked his head to the side. "I love you, Sam Waters. I love you, body, mind and soul."  
  
"Don't break my heart, Bail." Sam gripped his shirt as her lips caught hold of his. "Or I'll break you." Bailey backed away slightly and looked at Sam, perplexed. Sam let out a pure angelic laugh and pressed her body against his, rubbing herself against his now growing arousal, causing Bailey to respond with a moan.  
  
Bailey laughed against her lips. "I thought you were serious."  
  
Sam brushed a hand through his hair and grabbed a tuft. "Oh, but I am." She said, but couldn't hold back the smile.  
  
"Liar." Bailey gently put her down. "Let's get some sleep, okay? It's been a rough couple of days for us both."  
  
After a moment of comfortable silence, Sam turned in the bed and gave him an affectionate hug. "I love you." She whispered in his ear. "Just thought you'd like to know."  
  
"Well, I was getting worried . . . " Bailey joked, his eyes still closed.  
  
Sam placed her hand on Bailey's leg. "Bail, I'm sorry." He just smiled forgiveness and placed his hand over hers. "I'm sorry that I fell prey to Ellen's words, I should have known better." She paused and chewed on her lower lip. "I should have taken into account what I have felt when I'm with you. . . it's just that when I saw you with Liz - I became so confused and hurt -"  
  
"- I shouldn't have asked you to leave." Bailey cut her off. "We had this magical moment, and I just dropped it for Liz. What Liz and I had, is history - I just want you to know. It was decided by the Bureau, Sam. And no one was to be told, not even our family. The higher ups, Liz and I, we were the only ones informed." Bailey paused. "They actually wanted me to use you as the bait." Bailey commenced, as Sam's eyes grew wide. "They said we had this intimate, yet professional relationship that was the perfect set-up to lure Art or Ellen or whatever." Bailey shook his head, a sardonic smile rested on his lips. "I wouldn't . . . I threatened them if they even brought the matter to your attention, that I wouldn't be responsible for my actions." He grasped her hand tightly. "I couldn't put your life in jeopardy like that. So I called upon Liz, asking her for a favour. We staged everything, from the meeting to our sleeping arrangements." Bailey shrugged the latter part off. "We knew that the suspect would always be watching, so we had to make it as realistic as possible." He brought her hand to his mouth, and kissed her fingers tenderly. "For her service in the field, I sent in a few references getting her a job at Quantico as the full- time Profiling teacher - that's what she had come to tell me earlier today, that she got the job."  
  
"It's all in the past now, Bail." Sam smiled lovingly. "Let's look to our future together." She kissed him hungrily on the lips, forcing her tongue to tango with his.  
  
Bailey broke of the kiss, still pondering the turn of events. "We thought it was Art, and it turned out to be Ellen." Bailey laughed bitterly. "Funny how she saw past the charade . . ." Bailey swallowed hard.  
  
"My guess is that she got an idea when you called out my name while you two were . . ." Sam left the sentence hanging. Bailey looked at her surprised, but Sam just smiled smugly. "I still shouldn't have hurt you like that." Sam started again. "I should have trusted you more."  
  
Bailey put a reassuring hand on her arm. "If I can forgive you, you can forgive yourself." He smiled. "It won't be easy Sam, but you'll have to trust us and our love." He grinned. "It sounds sappy, but I can't describe it any other way. What I feel, whenever you're even in my thoughts let alone in the room, is magical beyond words. Sometimes I'm afraid my heart will just explode with love."  
  
Sam grimaced, and then smiled. "It's scary. . ."  
  
"But we still have to press on." Bailey reasoned as he turned on his side. He gently stroked her upper arm. "I have my reservations too, Sam. My doubts, my fears are as real as anybody who is in love. What if you are taken away, what if you wake up and don't return my feelings, what if you feel that this is a mistake. My heart can't take it either. . . why do you think it has taken so long for me to confront these feelings? Protection from myself is the main factor: I'm afraid of emotionally getting hurt."  
  
Sam smiled and affectionately caressed his face with her hand. She leaned in, and met him in a slow, intense kiss. Her hand lay flat on his chest as her mouth savored his. "You have nothing to worry about." Sam purred.  
  
"I wish you would take your own advice." Bailey retorted. Sam cuddled up to her love, laying her head on his shoulder. She draped her arm across his strong abdomen, and pressed her body close to his. She gently began grazing his naked torso with her nails.  
  
"Bail, you're wonderful." Sam sighed, gazing at his magnificent build. Her hand kept inching lower and lower, until she was just about to reach his member, when the phone suddenly interrupted their mood.  
  
Bailey took a moment to calm his now labored breathing and picked up the phone. "Malone."  
  
"Malone." A voice repeated as Bailey remained silent. "So you found her." Clapping could be heard in the background. "Good job, I couldn't have done better myself." Jack laughed.  
  
"What do you want?" Bailey demanded softly, as not to alarm Sam. He glanced back at her, observing that her eyes were closed, but knowing that she was still awake.  
  
"You two look so cozy in bed, though I was expecting a steamy moment." Jack breathed loudly. "I was so disappointed. But, this is just a friendly call to remind you to take care of my Samantha for me. . . keep her nice and warm - I'll pick her up soon." Jack snickered and hung up the phone.  
  
Bailey looked at his phone, thought about trying to trace the call and then hung up. «Pointless chasing a ghost.» He thought to himself, glancing out the window. He rose and stared out into the black night, willing the demons to dissipate and cease haunting him and his love. He heard Sam walk up behind him.  
  
She put her arms around him from the back, leaning into his powerful back. Her hands stroked his strong abdomen. "Who was that?" She asked and placed her ear against his back, listening to the vibrations his beautiful deep voice made.  
  
"Wrong number." Bailey replied quickly.  
  
Sam walked up in front of him and tried to meet his eyes, but he just stared blankly ahead. "What are you hiding?" She paused when she received no response. "Please, no secrets." She grasped his hand, and gave it a squeeze. "Don't shut me out." She reasoned.  
  
Bailey finally dropped his eyes, drinking in her beauty. He was touched by the concern emanating from her face. "You're so beautiful." He bent down and kissed her lightly on the lips. "Let's get back into bed - I miss not having you beside me." He picked her up fireman style, and despite her giggling, and took two determined large steps to the bed. He gently placed her on her back, and lowered himself over her, bracing himself on his arms. "Sam . . .my Sam." He smiled and met her in a passionate embrace. He pressed his body close to her, encouraging her to feel his need for her very soul.  
  
Sam gently passed her hand over his manhood and Bailey moaned her name. She smiled devilishly and caressed him once more.  
  
"Sam. . . not know." Bailey said, breathing hard. "I want it to be special." Truth be told, he was afraid of Jack - but he wouldn't let her see his fears. Sam smiled sadly and got under the covers. "I just want to hold you, love." Bailey said, wrapping his strong arms around her small frame. "I don't ever want you away from me." He said, which such emotion that Sam bit her lip to hold back the tears that sprung from her eyes.  
  
She kissed his arm and closed her eyes. "I love you." She whispered, after receiving a loving kiss on her temple.  
  
Bailey watched her as sleep quickly consumed her angelic body. He prepared himself for a sleepless night, knowing that Jack was not too far. He tightened his hold on Sam and placed his gun under his pillow, not before casting one last worried glance out of his window - out into the mocking night. «I'll protect her until I die, Jack . . . mark my word.» He threatened his foe silently, vowing to guard his love until the end of time.  
  
~Finis~ 


End file.
